Of Marks, Masks, and Malfoys
by revjo
Summary: Draco is attacked by a grief-stricken Veela.  Instead of dying, he changes.  What does the future hold for the Malfoy heir and an agent of the Veela Liaison division?
1. Chapter 1

Standard Anti-Litigation Charm: The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to JK Rowling, Scholastic and WB. I am not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story.

**AN: Ah, the old 'creature/mate fic'. Like the marriage law, a staple of Potterfic that I felt I'd take a try at. This will probably be the shortest and fluffiest of my stories. Enjoy!**

Chapter One:

Draco Malfoy stumbled up the walk from the apparition point near the main gate of Malfoy Manor. Since the end of the war, the estate wards had been reconfigured so that it was impossible to appear in the manor house itself due to fear of reprisal from either rogue Death Eaters or those who believed the Malfoy family should be in Azkaban and sought vigilante justice.

The Malfoy heir had barely been able to _Apparate_ himself home, and each step towards the stately entrance became more labored and weak. Setting a shaking palm on the door alerted the wards to his presence and the heavy iron and oak door swung open soundlessly at his touch. He stumbled through the threshold and collapsed on the marble floor beyond.

A house elf popped into the entry way to welcome his young master, and upon seeing him on the floor, he screeched in dismay and rushed to Draco's side.

"Master Draco? Master Draco?" he sobbed, tugging on the man's arm. The elf's cry alerted the other Malfoy elves and a dozen more popped into the room. A few of them instantly blinked out to alert the other residents of the manor. Within minutes, Narcissa Malfoy came running down the hallway as fast as she could in her slippered feet and flowing gowns. She went over to the couch where the house elves had just levitated their unconscious master.

"DRACO!" came the trembling scream, as the distraught Malfoy matriarch knelt by her son. She placed a hand on his forehead and another on his chest. The heartbeat was racing under her palm, and his skin was slick with sweat and fever. She called his name over and over, trying to get her son to wake.

A moment later, she heard thundering steps come down the hallway and looked up as her husband tore into the room. Lucius Malfoy took in the scene; his eyes wide with concern. "Cissa? What happened to Draco?" he demanded as he got to his knees beside his wife and wrapped his arms around his son.

"I have no idea. The elves said that he collapsed just as he came inside! Do you think he was attacked?"

"We shall see," he said grimly. The Lord of the Malfoy family's face was drawn tight; his lips in a thin line and his eyes cold as ice chips. Narcissa knew her husband and could tell that he was beyond terrified for their son. Lucius hefted Draco's body in his arms and walked over to the fireplace. "Cissa, if you would, please," he commanded, nodding toward the jar placed on the mantle.

The shaking woman ran and grabbed the floo powder from the jar. Tossing it into the flames, she yelled out 'St. Mungo's', and after watching her family disappear; quickly followed them.

An hour later, Lucius' pacing was interrupted when two men pushed their way into the waiting room outside the Emergency department of the wizarding hospital. "Malfoy! You were sentenced to house-arrest and are now in violation. We are taking you into holding at the Ministry pending your hearing. Give me your wand, slowly!"

Lucius glared at the young Aurors as he handed over his wand. "I seriously doubt that there will be a hearing. I am permitted to leave the house in the case of medical emergency and I believe this situation falls under that provision."

"You look fine to me, Malfoy," one of the Aurors said with a smirk. Lucius identified the man by his red hair.

"My son is seriously ill, Weasley, which can be verified in but a moment. There is no reason to take me to the Ministry, and if anything happens to Draco further whilst I am gone, there will be hell to pay!" Lucius growled.

"I'd like to see you try something, Malfoy!"

"I defied the Dark Lord himself when it came to my son. What makes you think a lowly Auror will deter me?" Lucius sneered at the men who swallowed heavily.

"I'll see you…." Ron began, as a healer rushed into the room.

"Mr. Malfoy! I need to speak to you and your wife immediately!"

"What is it?" came Narcissa's panicked voice as she rushed to her husband's side.

"Please, follow me, I shall ask my questions along the way," the healer said, gesturing to the double doors leading to the emergency wing. The Aurors began to follow them. "You stay here! You have no business in this wing!" the healer barked at them.

"We're here to take him in!" Ron yelled back, pointing at Lucius.

"There is a medical emergency, and you are wasting my time," the healer said, waving his hand in dismissal. The doors shut in front of the Aurors' faces and were warded against any non-essential personnel or family members from entering.

"Now," the man said, indicating for the Malfoys to follow him down the hall, "I am Healer Taggert. I was called in because I specialize in Magical Creature attacks. Your son was bitten by a Veela," he began and was interrupted from a pain-filled and shocked gasp from the worried parents behind him. "Yes, you understand the danger your son is in. A Veela's venom is certainly fatal to anyone other than the Veela's mate or another Veela." The man stopped when he noticed Narcissa start to swoon. He grabbed her arm as Lucius grabbed her around the waist. "Mrs. Malfoy, forgive me for causing you alarm. I must know, which of you has Veela ancestry, and how far back does it go?"

Lucius paled even further, and he looked to his wife. "This goes no further than you," he said to the healer.

"Of course…" Taggert said, somewhat confused.

"In certain circles this information could be damaging, although with the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters being defeated, it is not as great a concern…" he said, shaking his head, "to answer your question, both my wife and I have Veela blood. My great-grandmother and Narcissa's great-great grandmother were near-pure Veela."

The healer shook his head, "I hope to Merlin that it is enough to save your son. He appears to be fighting the venom, but is still severely ill. We have had to stabilize him…this way," he said, pulling back a curtain. The panicked Malfoys followed Taggert to their son's bedside. Narcissa fell to her knees by the bed and grabbed her son's pale hand.

"He is burning up!" she cried.

Lucius looked at Draco's sweating face and pushed back the damp hair from his son's forehead. "Is there anything you can do for this fever?"

"It is his body fighting the venom. I have been hesitant to give him a reducing potion, as a Veela's temperature spikes when they go through changes upon reaching maturity…to interrupt that process could cause severe damage. I am monitoring him closely; if his temperature spikes too high, then I will try to reduce it gradually, with an ice bath."

"You think he is changing?" Lucius gasped, turning wide eyes to the healer.

"It is a possibility," Taggert said, furrowing his brow. "When a Veela marks a human mate and releases venom into the system, the mate will undergo certain systematic changes to allow their magic and genetics to become more compatible… in your son's case, I am hoping that the venom is acting as a catalyst to his own dormant Veela traits."

"My son will become Veela?"

"It is his only chance of survival, Mr. Malfoy," the healer said sympathetically. "If he does not change, the venom will be fatal."

Lucius closed his eyes against the threatening tears. Narcissa gripped Draco's hand tighter and began to sob. The elder Malfoy laid his hand on his wife's shoulder and joined her, silently, in her despair.

"What is that in his arm?" Narcissa sobbed out.

"An 'I.V drip'," the healer said. "We could not get him to take potions, so we are dispensing them this way, along with a solution to keep him hydrated. It is a muggle invention, and I find that in situations like this, it is life-saving," Taggert said, somewhat defensively. Other healers and patients' families had scoffed at his usage of muggle medicine, but he had found some of their inventions and procedures to be indispensible.

Lucius barely shrugged, "Whatever it takes, Healer."

Over the next few days, the Malfoys barely left their son's side. Draco's fever had raged on unabated for over forty-eight hours. His sweat-drenched body writhed and twisted so much that he was restrained to the bed by straps. The Malfoy's took turns sleeping on a cot brought to the room and reading to their son from his favorite books. Neither Lucius nor Narcissa would have been easily recognizable. The dark circles under their eyes and their rumpled clothing would have thrown-off anyone, even those that knew them well. Lucius mourned the absence of his friend, Severus Snape. The Potion Master would have been a boon to the family at this dark time, even if his potions proved to be no help. Although the elder Malfoy was an intensely private and independent man, since their school days, he had relied heavily on the friendship and counsel from the former spy for the Order of the Phoenix.

The Malfoys came out of the trials following the war better than anyone expected. Lucius was sentenced to three years of house arrest only, which was to satisfy the remainder of his sentence from when he had been caught at the Ministry of Magic a few years earlier. As nearly all of the Malfoy families' actions since Voldemort's resurrection were done under duress as the Dark Lord had repeatedly threatened all of them with the loss of their lives, coupled with Narcissa deceiving Voldermort regarding Harry before the final confrontation and the fact that the elder Malfoys took no part in the battle, the Wizengamut was ready to sentence Lucius to only an additional five years. Under Veritaserum at his trial, Lucius finally admitted that he had discovered Severus Snape's true role as a spy for the Order of the Phoenix, and had supplied his old friend with news to take back to Dumbledore before that same man's engineered 'murder'. Severus had been Lucius' only true friend since their school days, and each knew they other as well as they knew themselves. Lucius had picked up on Severus' mannerisms and ticks that were unnoticeable to all others, even Voldemort. Lucius was also privy to Severus' feelings for Lily Potter, and it took little effort to put two and two together. There was no possible way that Lucius would have revealed Severus' true status to the Dark Lord; to do so would have meant the Potion Master's torture and death. So, the elder Malfoy turned informant. Even Draco and Narcissa were surprised by this revelation.

Once again, Lucius had done everything he could for his family. He cared not if he had been sent to Azkaban if Voldemort had lost the war; he only cared if his son and wife were safe. That is why he supplied Severus with information, under the pledge that the Potion Master would do everything in his power to protect Draco and Narcissa. This new information led the wizarding court to their scandalous decision. Regardless of their heroic actions, there were some that would always see the taint of the dark on the Malfoy family. Lucius, although he chafed against his confinement, still saw some good in house arrest. Hopefully by the time he was allowed to rejoin the wizarding community, rumors and harsh feelings would have dwindled.

Lucius looked over at the sleeping Narcissa and heaved a heavy sigh. If Severus was not in a coma from Nagini's bite, he would have taken the woman's place in vigil so she could return to the Manor to get some needed rest. '_Not that Narcissa would have gone without argument,'_ Lucius thought with a smile. The woman was as coddling and protective as a Weasley when it came to her son.

Soft moans started to come from the bound form on the bed. Lucius leapt from his seat and rushed to Draco's side. The youngest Malfoy's eyes fluttered for long moments before opening. Lucius stifled a gasp when he saw that his son's grey-blue irises had turned a mercurial silver.

"Father?" came a dry whisper.

"I am here, my dragon," Lucius said as a tear coursed down his bristled cheek. Too many times had he feared for his son's life, but once again, whatever gods there were had been merciful and brought Draco back to him. "Are you alright? Are you in need of anything?"

"Water…" he rasped.

Lucius conjured a glass and filled it with cool water. He unbuckled the straps and got in bed so he could maneuver Draco's limp body to recline against his own. Raising the glass to Draco's chapped lips, he helped his son drink as he ran his fingers through baby-fine blond hair.

"Mother?"

"Resting over there. I will wake her in a few moments, when you have finished."

"Where am I? What happened?"

"St. Mungo's. You came home days ago and collapsed in the foyer. I brought you immediately here. From what we could ascertain, you were bitten by a Veela. Do you remember what happened?"

"I went to Diagon Alley to get a book… some woman came at me… she grabbed my arm and tried dragging me away…kept shouting that I was a Death Eater and should die…that I killed her husband…she…she bit my hand…" he said weakly, slowly raising his left hand to his eyes. There was a healed mark on his hand; a thin, pink crescent by his thumb.

Lucius closed his eyes and rested his cheek on his son's head. "It is my fault…" he muttered. "If I had fought harder to keep you away from everything…."

"Not your fault…you did what you could do…" Draco mumbled, patting his father's hand weakly. "I was bitten by a Veela?"

"Yes…"

"Why am I not dead? Did this do something?" Draco asked, looking at the needle and tube in his arm.

"They could not get you to take any potions, so they have had to inject them directly into your vein."

"There is an antidote to the venom now? I thought that was impossible…is Uncle Severus awake?"

"No. Your Godfather is still unconscious…and there is no antidote, Draco."

"So why am I not dead?"

"You are not dead because Veela mates and Veela are immune to the venom…"

"That crazy woman was my mate? Then why would she attack me?" the young wizard asked, confused.

"Draco…there is something that your mother and I have not told you. It was not because we mistrusted you or lacked faith in you; we thought that if the information got out to the wrong sort by accident, it would have spelled great danger for our family. Now, as the Dark Lord is gone, it is probably of little consequence," he said. Draco looked even more confused, so Lucius endeavored to get to the point. "Truth is, Draco, your mother and I both have Veela ancestry. The venom was not fatal for you because of this, although you were gravely ill and we all feared the worst. Thank Merlin you did not succumb," the elder Malfoy said, full of emotion.

"So…I have enough Veela in me that the venom was not fatal? That is a spot of luck," he said with a smirk, "and quite ironic too, as the thing that saved me was impure blood."

"We are still Purebloods. Veela are a magical race, but as they are not wholly human, some would have held that against our family. That is why it was never revealed."

"I never thought blood mattered, anyway," Draco said softly, half fearing his father's reaction.

"I did. I believed that it mattered with everything in me, until I saw all the blood on the battlefield and could not tell any difference. And when I saw mere children lying amidst the ruins… there is absolutely nothing in the world that would justify that."

"So why were you helping Uncle Severus before, then, if you still believed at that time?"

"I may have believed in Pureblood supremacy, but I knew that the Dark Lord was an insane megalomaniac that needed to be destroyed. Unfortunately, my hands were tied. The only thing I could do without being obvious was feeding Severus bits of information to take to the Order. If he had fooled the Dark Lord for as long as he did, I had the utmost faith that he could keep my actions secret."

Draco nodded against his father's chest. The young man closed his eyes and rested. It had been some time since his father had just held him like this. It was a frequent thing when Draco was younger; however, when he reached his teenaged years, he, like any other teenaged boy, did not want to cuddle with his parents. Now, he relished the warmth and love he felt. Contrary to popular belief, the Malfoy family was close-knit and very affectionate, in private. It was only under the eyes of others that they donned the "Malfoy Mask" of indifference and propriety.

"Here," Lucius said, raising Draco up so he could get off the bed and reposition his son against the propped-up pillows, "you lay back and I will awaken your mother."

Draco sank into the bed and closed his eyes. He had nearly drifted off to sleep when he felt a soft, cool hand brush his forehead. His eyes fluttered open and he saw the worried face of Narcissa Malfoy.

"Hello, Mother," he said with a weak grin.

She began to sob in relief and threw her arms around her son. "Oh…Draco…if anything had happened to you, I do not know what I…"

Draco could no longer lift his arms, so he rested his cheek against her hair. "I will be fine, Mother…just tired."

"Of course…you rest, my dragon. We will be right here when you wake," she said, dabbing her nose with a lace handkerchief. Lucius said that he would inform Healer Taggert that Draco had woken up, and left the room.

Moments later he was back with the green-robed wizard. "Mrs. Malfoy, if you could step back for a moment, I would like to examine him."

"He is sleeping, now," she said softly.

"Just some diagnostics, I will not disturb him unless necessary," Taggert said, running his wand over the sleeping form. He cast spell after spell, some leaving traces of color in the air that were peered at intently. After long moments, he finally put his wand away and turned to the anxious parents.

"Would you like to hear everything now or should I wait for Draco to wake?"

"We need to be informed now, Healer," Lucius said grimly.

"Well, first off, your son is in perfect health. He is just weak and drained from the fever…and the change he just went through."

Sighing, Lucius rubbed his forehead and asked, "So he is Veela, then?"

"Yes…he is full Veela now."

"Do not misunderstand…I am more thankful and relieved than you could imagine that he is still with us…but…"

"After everything he has been through already…" Narcissa began where her husband drifted off, "it is not fair that he will have to deal with this as well."

"Mrs. Malfoy," Taggert said, taking a seat across from the couple, "he will be able to lead a very full and productive life. There will be no ill effects to his health or daily life from the change. His senses and his magic will be increased, which he should adapt to with no problem…."

"But he will have to find his mate, will he not? What if she is unsuitable?"

Leaning back, the Healer leveled a piercing look at the Malfoys. "You are a prominent, Pureblood family. I can assume that you have negotiated a betrothal contract for your son."

"Yes. He has been betrothed since he was sixteen," Narcissa said.

"Due to your son's nature, that contract is now null and void, unless the young lady he is betrothed to is his mate. And yes, Mr. Malfoy…these are perfectly legal grounds for dissolution of the contract…you and your family will not suffer for it. Veela bonding rights supersede even a marriage, due to the consequences to the Veela and their mate if they do not form a bond. Anyway, I digress," he said, waving his hand. "You chose his betrothed based on what you viewed as the young woman's compatibility with your son. Bloodline, education…wealth?"

"Of course," Lucius said, drawing himself up. "Although, at this time, bloodlines are not as important as they once were. Still, my family would prefer a girl from the same circles, with the right upbringing."

"My point is that you looked for what you thought to be the best and most advantageous match for your son. In the case of a Veela and his mate, it is their magical core and their very souls that match them. They will be perfect for one another, in every way. I do not think you can get more compatible than that."

"Which means she will be hot," came a weak voice from the bed.

The Malfoys and Taggert looked over to Draco, who was lying back on the pillows with his eyes open a slit and a weak smirk on his lips.

"How are you feeling, Draco? I am Healer Taggert, I have been treating you these past days," the healer said when he reached the bedside.

"I feel like I got trampled by a herd of hippogriffs, but other than that…just dandy."

"Now that you are out of the woods, I can start giving you more potions. I could not give you anything that may have reacted to your change. I will have a mediwitch bring you a pain-reliever and a mild pepper-up. You can also have something real to eat for dinner, and not get fed through a tube," he said, pointing to the I.V.

"That was my food, too?"

"Liquids for hydration and a sugar solution to sustain your metabolic function for a short time," Taggert said as he jotted down notes in Draco's file.

"They jabbed it into my arm," the young man said while scowling at the needle.

"Better than implanting the tube in your stomach as we could not open your jaw at all to shove a tube down your throat. Now, I shall get those potions sent to you. I believe that young Master Malfoy will be able to go home this evening," Taggert said to the joy and relief of the Malfoys.

"So soon?"

"He is in perfect health; he just needs rest and full-balanced meals for the next few days until he regains his strength. I can give you some materials regarding some of the changes you have gone through, as well as the contact information for the Veela liaison with the Ministry…they should be able to answer any questions you have. I will be writing to them and informing them of your situation, but I will not release your name. If and when you do contact the liaison, just tell them that you are the patient that I referred. Good luck, young man," he said, nodding at Draco as he turned to leave.

"Thank you, Healer…for everything," Narcissa said.

The man nodded again, and shook their hands. With a wave he left the room. Narcissa left to instruct the elves to ready the house for Draco's return, while Lucius helped Draco change and go through the instructions on his potions. He took the pain-reliever and pepper-up right away, but he was given a few bottles of an additional potion.

"This is a suppressant, just a mild one. For the next few weeks your increased senses and magic might be a bit to handle, especially if you go into a crowd, so you might want to take a couple of drops of this," the mediwitch explained. Lucius nodded and placed the vials in his robe pocket.

As Lucius had turned his wand over to the Aurors, he was unable to assist Draco to the floos magically. With a strong arm wrapped around the younger man's waist, Lucius helped Draco walk slowly down to the floos.

As they reached the main lobby, a grizzled man in Auror's robes reached them.

"Malfoy!" he barked in a voice as grizzled as his face. Lucius stiffened and turned to face the Auror. "Auror McClintock….glad I caught ye. Shacklebolt sent me to let you know there won't be no hearing and he hopes ye boy is doing alright. Looks like he is, though he's as wobbly as a colt."

"Quite…" Lucius drawled. "I thank you, and could you please inform the Head Auror that my son would like to speak to him as soon as possible. I believe Draco has some information for him regarding his attack in Diagon Alley."

McClintock's eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline. "We were led to believe that the young man got hexed by…er…" he said, suddenly uncomfortable.

"I would not listen to a word a Weasley says about a Malfoy," Lucius sneered. "Now good day, I am taking my son home."

"Ye might be wanting this, then," McClintock said, holding out a wand.

Lucius retrieved his wand with relief, and nodded to the Auror curtly. In a whirl of green flames, the Malfoy men were back at the Manor. Lucius helped Draco stumble out into the study where Narcissa was waiting for them. Smiling, she swept over to them and warmly welcomed them home.

"Your room is all ready for you, and I have had dinner sent to your room on a bed tray."

"Thank you, Mother," Draco said with a smile and a small eye-roll.

"Oh, stop…you will always be my little boy, and after what happened, I am more than allowed to smother you a bit. Deal with it!"

"Yes, Mother," he said with a chuckle that was echoed by Lucius.

"Come along, Draco. You should eat and rest before your mother breaks out your old stuffed toys and a story book," Lucius said, sending his wife a smile over his shoulder. Narcissa shook her head and watched as Lucius helped Draco up the stairs to his room. Shutting her eyes, she sat down on the couch and covered her face with her hands. A few minutes later, she felt the couch shift as her husband sat next to her.

"He is fine… he will be fine, Cissa," he said softly, taking her into his arms. Sobs wracked her body as she let loose all the stress, despair, and relief of the past few days.

Lucius just held and rocked his beloved wife until she fell asleep in his arms. Scooping her up so he could lay her down on the soft couch, he took off her slippers and covered her slim form with a blanket. He pressed a gentle kiss on her head, then moved quietly over to his desk to read quietly while his family rested.


	2. Chapter 2

1Standard Anti-Litigation Charm: The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to JK Rowling, Scholastic and WB. I am not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story.

**AN: Thank you to all readers and reviewers. I hope that I earn your praise.**

Chapter Two

Over the next two weeks, Draco's strength returned quickly and he learned to deal with his increased magical abilities and his senses. Like Lucius, Draco could perform some magic wandlessly, but his transformation gave him new facility, was a bonus that Draco exhibited with glee, to the consternation of his mother and the house elves. The increased sense of sound and smell were difficult to deal with at times. As a result, his diet changed slightly, and he could no longer tolerate his father's cologne, much to Lucius' irritation. The other noticeable changes were physical. Draco had always been attractive, now he was almost unbelievably so. In mere days he had gained the height of his father and now boasted a broader and more muscular physique. The planes of his face became more angular and square, losing the pointed chin and nose. His already pale skin, took on the muted luminescence of alabaster.

As he studied himself in the mirror, he snorted in rueful mirth. '_If only I looked this good in school, I would have had more fun…really lived up to that Sex-God title…now it will be wasted, as the only woman I will fully desire will be my mate…_' Although Draco was not looking forward to the lack of company, he still hoped that it would be some time before he found the woman destined for him. Getting married young was something he was dreading ever since he found out he had been betrothed to Astoria Greengrass on his sixteenth birthday. At twenty, he still felt he was too young to "settle down".

Head Auror Shacklebolt had called Lucius to have Draco stop in to give his account and memories of his attack in Diagon Alley. The Malfoy scion finally felt recovered and stable enough to venture into public. As soon as he entered the Ministry building, he was overwhelmed by the scents of so many people nearby. He exerted his control as much as he could so he did not stumble to the nearest corner so he could take his suppressant potion. '_Cannot believe I forgot to take it before I left…then again, I did not realize it would be _this_ bad!_'

After a few drops of the potion, his senses were dulled to what they had been before his change, and he walked towards the lifts with his head high and the Malfoy Mask on.

He gave his account to Shacklebolt, as well as the best description he could give of the hooded and filthy woman who bit him.

"You were bitten by a Veela? How are you not dead?" the dark-skinned Head Auror asked.

"That was a concern," Draco said, quelling a smirk. Draco then revealed his distant Veela ancestry, and the fact that it finally counteracted the venom he was given.

"Looks like it did more than just counteracted it, Malfoy...I remember perfectly what you looked like before. You went through the change, did you not?" Kingsley asked bluntly.

Draco's face gave away nothing; however after a few moments of the Auror's intense study, he gave a slight nod. "After you are done here, you can go down to the liaison's office…they're just a couple of floors away."

"I do not need to see anyone. I am perfectly fine," the young Malfoy said in clipped tones. He finished his statement to the Auror.

"Your father's review should be in a few months. It has been nearly three years. I shall be submitting my own report to the Wizengamut. You can tell Lucius that as long as there is no trouble in the near future, not that I anticipate any from him, he should have no worries." Draco thanked Shacklebolt, and went back toward the lifts. As the lift made its way to the main floor, he caught a whiff of a mildly sweet yet spicy scent that reminded him of a bakery in Paris he always dragged his parents to when he was a child. His mouth watered slightly. Shaking his head and thinking that someone was just enjoying a treat, he got out of the lift and made his way to Diagon Alley. Due to the incident, he never actually retrieved the books he ordered from Flourish & Blotts.

He picked up the three volume set of History of Ancient Arts he had waiting, and made his way down the Alley towards the new café. He was still hungry often, and it was lunch time. He took a seat outside so he could enjoy the fresh air and skim through a book while he ate his sandwich.

"Well, well…if it isn't the Ferret," came a voice attempting a smooth drawl and failing.

"Well, well…if it is not the person who lacks the creativity to come up with anything new since fourth year," Draco said, his drawl impeccable as he set down his napkin and looked up at the group approaching him.

He saw Ron, beginning to turn a horrible shade of puce, as well as Harry Potter, a gorgeous, slim blond woman, and what had to be another Weasley, judging by the hair. The woman had tilted her head and was regarding Draco intently.

"Malfoy," Harry said, giving the blond man a slight nod. "Potter," came the reply and an identical nod.

"Heard you were in hospital. Alright now?"

"Perfectly well, as you can see," Draco said with a smirk, spreading his arms so the group could take in his immaculate appearance.

Harry looked his old rival over. He felt that something was different about the other wizard's appearance, but shook it off and turned to his group. "I don't know if you remember Fleur, she was the Triwizard contestant from Beauxbatons, and this is her husband, Bill Weasley."

Remembering his manners, Draco rose and bowed to Fleur, and shook hands with Bill, all the while wondering how a Weasley could get a beautiful, part-Veela to marry him. Wait…part-Veela! The woman was now looking at him with shocked, wide eyes. '_Damn…she knows somehow…_'

"Monsieur Malfoy,.." Fleur began and cut herself off when she saw Draco's eyes flash silver. "Er, zat iz, I am pleezed to zat you 'ave recovered."

"Merci, Madame Weasley," he responded with a polite nod.

"Malfoy, I heard that you had top marks at Hogwarts, and my branch is always looking for new talent…what are your career plans?" Bill asked politely.

"Presently I am heading all of the Malfoy interests in my father's until his reintroduction to society later this year. After that, I still plan to work for the family company. Who are you with?"

"Oh, sorry," Bill said with a sheepish grin that crinkled the scars on his face, "I head the curse-breaking department at Gringotts. As I said, we're always looking for new talent, especially those who would be free to travel in the field. I got transferred to the main office when I married, not that I'm complaining about it," he said with a grin and a wink at his wife. "You're not married yet, are you?"

"No, thank Merlin," Draco said with a smirk. This statement earned him another intent look from Fleur.

"When you meet ze right woman, that will change," she said with a knowing smile.

Ron stood there fuming and grabbed Harry's arm to stomp off toward the Quidditch supply shop. Draco just shrugged and smirked at the childish display and said his farewells to the other two Weasleys. He turned back to gather his belongings from the table, missing the curious glances sent his way by a part-Veela.

The next day, the house elves announced a visitor to Malfoy Manor. "Who is it, Tibby? Did they give a name?" Mrs. Malfoy asked as she arranged a flower display in the sitting room.

"No names, just that theys from the liaisons office, Mistress."

"Draco made no mention of going to the Liaison Office yesterday…very well, escort them to this room and notify the Master and Draco. Have some tea sent, as well."

"Yes, Mistress," the elf said, bowing, then popped off to run its errands.

Moments later, the elf led a tall man into the sitting room. Narcissa was standing in the middle of the elegant room, awaiting her guest with all the cool aplomb of a Malfoy, although she was very curious and anxious about why the Ministry would be sending a liaison agent to her home.

"Welcome to Malfoy Manor. I am Narcissa Malfoy," she said crisply.

"Reginald Hardwicke, Ma'am," he said with a small, courtly bow. "I have come from the Veela Liaison Office to meet with your son, Mr. Draco Malfoy," Hardwicke said, scanning the file in his hands. Narcissa discretely studied the liaison agent. He was tall, somewhat lanky, with dark blonde hair and Wedgewood-blue eyes. Most would consider the man attractive; however, Narcissa was rightfully biased in such things. Very few beings could compete with the Malfoy men when it came to looks.

"May I ask what this is regarding?"

"Ma'am, I believe that I should wait for your son before I start discussing anything. I…" he said, halting when the Malfoy men entered the room. Lucius entered the room with a measured and commanding stride. Although he no longer had the position and power he once enjoyed, he was still a force to be reckoned with, and it was evident in his every movement.

Standing before the visitor, he arched one perfect golden brow.

"Sir, as I introduced myself to Mrs. Malfoy, I am Agent Hardwicke, from the Ministry's Veela Liaison. I am here to meet with your son, Draco, as it has come to our attention that he exhibits considerable Veela traits. I was sent to verify…" he said, breaking off when he finally noticed Draco standing behind his father. Hardwicke's jaw dropped as he scanned the young wizard's face.

"Mr. Hardwicke? I demand to know your interest in my son? Hardwicke!"

"Forgive me, but it is quite extraordinary…you must understand how excited the community is! Males with any Veela blood these days are still less than half at the most due to all the intermixing with humans and the fact that pure Veela are only female…for there to be a nearly pure Veela male is a wonder! All the matriarchs cannot wait to meet you!"

Draco arched a brow, neatly imitating his godfather Severus' famous expression, and glanced over at his mother.

"You did not mention you stopped by the liaison yesterday," Narcissa said, leveling a questioning look at Draco that held a tinge of rebuke.

"That is due to the fact that I did not, Madam. I went to speak with Shacklebolt, only. In fact, I am quite curious as to how they know of me. The healer stated that he would not release my name, and what information I gave to the Aurory would not be disseminated while an investigation is going on."

"You were spotted in Diagon Alley yesterday, and recognized for who and what you are. We were then contacted, as, like I said, a near-pure Veela male is unique, and you are quite valuable to the Veela community at large. In fact, I…"

"What is your meaning, Hardwicke? Valuable? My son will not be objectified or used by anyone," Lucius snapped out; his blazing eyes and thinned lips the only outward signs of his anger.

"Of course not, Sir…I..I only meant that the leading families, the matriarchs, they will all be anxious to meet with you and see if you would be compatible with any of their lines. If you would find your mate among them…your children, if you mated with another of Veela descent, would have some of the strongest Veela blood in centuries. Nearly all pure Veela are extinct; there are only a few ancients remaining. The rest of the community is mostly half-bloods. Surely you can see their interest?"

"Why must everything comes down to blood…. Merlin," Draco said, closing his eyes wearily.

"It is only curiosity, Mr. Malfoy. Due to the nature of mate-bonding, there can be force or coercion in any way from outside sources…not that there would be regardless. They simply want to meet you," the Ministry agent said meekly.

"How would these meetings take place?" Narcissa asked.

"Actually, there is a gathering of sorts next month, in France. The agent that was supposed to be your contact left just yesterday and is over there now, overseeing everything. For that, I apologize…she handles things better than I do," he admitted sheepishly. "It is a meeting of the matriarchs, heads of families, and a ball and reception, to allow all the unmated to mix and mingle; hopefully sparking quite a few bonds."

"That does not sound too horrendous, Draco," Narcissa said softly.

The youngest Malfoy struggled to hold in a snort. His family was quite aware of the fact that he hated parties of that sort. Business-related receptions were one thing; people typically were formal and professional at such gatherings. Balls were another matter. Although Draco loved attention, especially of the female variety, there was only so much twittering and small-talk he could stomach.

"Send the details by owl, Mr. Hardwicke. If my son will attend, he will let your office know," Lucius said, turning his body sideways and gesturing to the door. The man knew a dismissal when he saw one.

"Yes, Sir. Mr. Malfoy, Ma'am," he said with a bow. Tibby was already by the door, waiting to escort the official out.

The Malfoys were silent until they heard the great front door close. "That was enlightening," Cissa said.

"Ugh…I really, really do not want to go…" Draco muttered, already fearing his father's response.

"Unfortunately, I do think it would be best if you do attend. Perhaps you will not find your mate; however, the opportunity to meet these matriarchs will do much good for the family. Several powerful and notable families from the continent are known to have Veela ancestry. For the business alone, it would be beneficial to establish contacts."

"Always thinking with the pocketbook," Draco said with a smirk.

"Always thinking about this family's survival and future, you cheeky brat," Lucius said with wink.

"Fine," the younger man huffed out as he sat on a couch. "I shall go to France, be wined and dined, set up things so we shall fill our vaults even more, and be surrounded by gorgeous, half-Veela girls. Why do all the wretched tasks fall to me?"


	3. Chapter 3

1Standard Anti-Litigation Charm: The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to JK Rowling, Scholastic and WB. I am not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story

**AN: Forgive my depiction of a French accent. When I was a kid, my mother headed a foreign cultural exchange program, where French teenagers and their chaperones came to our area and stayed with a local family for a summer. Most of them spoke very fluent English, but not one of them could pronounce an English 'h', so I typed the dialog from my memories of those students' speech.**

Chapter Three:

Hermione was reading over the files she just received via Ministry package. Her temporary office in the French Ministry of Magic in Paris was far grander than the norm in London, and the young witch felt she looked out-of-place wearing her Muggle business suit. However, she felt even more uncomfortable when she wore wizarding robes, so she settled for the lesser evil.

The head liaison agent for the Department of Magical Beings and Creatures updated her calendar and made notes for the upcoming Veela Gathering of Clans, which would be taking place in a little over two weeks. She entered the latest names of the Veela guests from England to the registry; stopping on the very last one. She dropped her quill and held the file up to her face; blinking her eyes madly, as the name could not be correct.

"Malfoy? He's a Veela?" Shaking her head, she went to the beginning of the file to find out what was going on. Hermione had originally been only a researcher for the Department; however, when the senior liaison agent retired, he had nominated Hermione for the job. Her renowned level-headedness was a requisite for an agent dealing with Veela and their ability to charm and beguile. When she started her position a year ago, she studied everything she could about Veelas and the Veela families living within the scope of the British Ministry. She knew of all of them; their histories, their bloodlines, their ties to one or more of the Clans on the continent. The Malfoys were nowhere to be found. Now, not only was Draco Malfoy a Veela, but his file claimed he was nearly full-blooded!

Finally, she came upon the notes from Hardwicke and a Healer Taggert. She had received Taggert's initial report a month ago, and was excited at the thought of meeting such a unique Veela. Unfortunately, the individual had not come to the liaison office before Hermione was sent to Paris. She had been disappointed. Now, she felt lucky that she hadn't been the one to deal with Malfoy. Although the war had been over for two years and the Malfoys had not turned out to be as dark and evil as suspected, she still had no real desire to see that pointy ferret's face again, or set foot in Malfoy Manor.

"Terrific.. he's coming here..." she grumbled, closing her eyes and laying her head on her arms.

"Problems, Miss Granger?" she heard a purring voice say. Glancing up, she saw a radiantly beautiful woman standing in her doorway, with a concerned look on her face.

"Madame Delacour!" Hermione exclaimed, standing quickly and giving a slight bow. "How may I help you?"

"Miss Granger...pleez be seated. I 'ave told you before..we are almost family, no? Dear William sees you as a sister; there is no reason to have such ceremony between us," the older woman said with a gentle smile.

"Then you must call me Hermione," she said with a shy smile as she sat behind her desk. She gestured at a chair for the Veela to take. "So, what can I help you with today?" Hermione asked as she studied one of the matriarchs of the Vinchet Clan. Apolline Delacour appeared no older than forty, but Hermione knew the Veela to be closer to three times that age, such was a mated half-Veela's longevity. Madame Delacour exhibited the stereotypical coloring; pale blond hair and silver-blue eyes, which were currently filled with warmth. '_A good thing too...although I like Apolline, she definitely has a Veela's quick temper_,' Hermione mused.

"I was only wondering what your final numbers will be...Madame Umbrecht directed me to 'andle the additional accommodations," the French Veela stated in slightly accented English, unlike her daughter, Fleur Weasley; though Fleur's English had improved dramatically over the years.

"I was just putting those together. Here is the list for our contingent," Hermione said, passing over the parchment with a frown.

Apolline was curious and glanced at the list. When she came upon the last name, she exclaimed, "Oh! Yes, the matriarchs were just speaking of Monsieur Malfoy again. It is exciting, no? The first nearly pure male Veela in an age. They are simply jumping over each other; saying that it is their line that will snatch such a prize. I almost feel sorry for the boy," she said with a chuckle.

She noticed that Hermione's frown had deepened. "Whatever is the matter?"

Rolling her eyes, the young witch said, "I went to Hogwarts with Draco Malfoy. If I never saw him again as long as I live, I would die a happy witch. He was an arrogant prat at school and I doubt he's changed."

"Zat is too bad. I knew his great-grandfather, 'Eyperion. 'Ee was such a gentlewizard. I met him at my first gathering, many years ago. Our families 'oped that we would be mated; 'owever, it obviously did not 'appen, as I found my Charles, some time later. 'Ee was not allowed to find his mate, poor man, and was married to some 'orrible woman who 'is father chose. I only met Abraxas Malfoy once and it appeared zat he took after the mother. 'Ee had none of 'Eyperion in 'im, aside from looks."

Hermione felt slight pity for the late Malfoy patriarch. Since he never bonded with his mate and took another as his wife, he was unable to enjoy a longer life or the happiness from having a bonded mate. It probably also explained Abraxas and Lucius. Children of unmated pairs often bore the brunt of a miserable marriage. "I guess the looks got passed down a bit; I mean, both Lucius and Draco have the coloring, but I wouldn't call either of them a 'gentlewizard' by any means," Hermione scoffed.

"Well, let us 'ope that they 'ave learned from their mistakes in this time since the war."

"I haven't heard much about them in the past couple of years. Lucius is on house-arrest, so Draco has been running their businesses; at least, that's what all the papers have said. And they've been donating a ton to charities and the rebuilding of Hogwarts. They appear to be keeping their noses clean, but they're Slytherins…they could just be lying low and playing for the public."

Apolline looked at the young witch and shook her head. As mature and experienced as Hermione was, she still had so much to learn. "You must spend more time with Purebloods other than the Weasleys," she said, raising her hand to cut Hermione off. "You know that I am fond of my extended family; 'owever, they are not typical of Purebloods. Most Pureblooded children learn politics and social maneuvering whilst in their cradles. It is merely the way of things; not only for your Slytherins, but for any family that wishes to be recognized in our world. It is the same way in the upper classes of your Muggle world, is it not?"

Hermione frowned and chewed her lip. She did not like being rebuked any more than she did as a child, but realized the truth of what the older witch said. She nodded her head, "I understand what you are saying, Madame Delacour, but you must also see that I won't be able to spend a lot of time with other Purebloods due to my being Muggleborn. The war may have been won, but there is still a lot of prejudice in England."

Apolline fought the urge to roll her eyes and settled for smoothing out her robes, "Such silliness. Where do those wizards think they came from? Out of the ground, like weeds, perhaps? Or from sea foam? Aside from the eldest Veela, all wizards came from the Muggles."

"That is what I've always understood, but I guess some people have to have someone to hate," Hermione said morosely.

"Just like you 'ate the Malfoys and Slytherins?" came Apolline's sharp words.

Hermione cringed and said hotly, "I have some cause to dislike them. Ask Fleur and Bill what happened to us right before we showed up at their cottage during the war!" The upset witch closed her eyes and took deep, shuddering breaths to calm down. "Forgive me…I really didn't mean to snap at you, and this is definitely not how I wanted to this visit to go…"

"It is fine; I apologize as well for getting into the subject. I should be off; I have my own work to do. We shall have lunch later this week, yes?" the older witch asked with a gentle smile.

"Yes, definitely," Hermione said with an answering smile. She really liked the Veela and felt badly for the way the morning went.

Hermione looked back at the file that caused the upheaval and slammed it shut. "He's not even here in person and he's creating a mess," she snorted. "I really hope that I don't have to deal with him often, or even see his ferrety face!" Sitting back in her chair, Hermione felt dread wash over her, as she knew that she would be seeing him. It was part of her job whilst she was here to meet with each member of the British Veela contingent. "Well, hopefully it will be over quickly…I'll only ask him if there is anything he needs, and that's it!" She groaned then, musing over all the silly errands he would no doubt have her run. "Spoiled prat!" she hissed under her breath.

Her morning well and truly shot, she grabbed up her files and locked them away, then left her office to find a café for a much-needed spot of tea.

'_I wonder if there's any way they'd spike it with something…Merlin knows I could use a drink right now!_'

As she walked from her office at the French Ministry and outside to Paris' wizarding section, curly hair tumbling about her shoulders with every step, the witch was completely oblivious to the interested and admiring glances she received. Hermione Granger still saw herself as that buck-toothed, bushy-haired bookworm that she was throughout Hogwarts. Now, at twenty-one, her curls had tamed themselves and hung in sable ringlets down her back. Her teeth, which she had already corrected years earlier, straightened further as she matured. Her form had remained slim since the year spent on the run, yet acquired the curves of an adult woman. She was still petite, standing only about 5' 3", but her aura of power and confidence made her seem taller. Her whiskey-colored eyes shone with intelligence and wit, and they were set in an expressive face, with cheekbones most witches would give their wands for and full, rose-tinted, pouting lips.

She was blind to it all, not only because she was not the type of witch to pay attention to her appearance, but those she surrounded herself with were not the type to see her as anything but "just Hermione" or "one of the boys". Those wizards that _were_ interested in her back home were too intimidated by the young witch and her reputation to approach her.

Hermione was happy to find her favorite café, _Le Crinière du Griffon_, was not packed despite the lunch hour, and found an outdoor table. She ordered her favorite jasmine tea and a few pastries, and as she sipped her cuppa, Hermione watched the witches and wizards go about their daily lives around her. The wizarding section of Paris was quite large and beautifully laid-out. The avenues of the shopping district were clean and lined with trees; even Paris' version of Knockturn Alley was clean and well-kept. For centuries, Paris had been an international wizarding center, unlike London, which had remained insular until the advent of the international floo system. '_Although_,' Hermione mused, _'England is still pretty cut-off from the rest of the world, especially in its way of thinking_.'

Most wizarding populations, except for England and some places to the far north, never would have allowed a Dark Lord to develop and take power the way Voldemort did. The only reason why Grindelwald had some success was due to the turmoil and upheaval in Europe at the time, as the wizarding community was beleaguered with Muggle WWII spilling over into their world.

In France, Hermione was known to be Muggleborn, yet had found no discrimination for her "unfortunate blood status". It was refreshing, to say the least, and the young witch found herself tempted to remain in Paris when her job was over. '_But I couldn't leave the boys like that..._' She shook her head in an attempt to dislodge the morose thoughts creeping in, to no avail. _'But the boys don't really need me anymore, do they? Harry has Ginny and the rest of the Weasleys...and Ron has...well, Ron has Molly and whatever flavor of the month he finds... and I have my books and my job..._' Heaving a sigh, Hermione set a tip on the table and got up to take a stroll. Everywhere she looked she saw couples; young and old, walking down the avenues, laughing and talking softly to each other.

'_Snap out of it, Hermione...you're becoming a cliche from some romantic drama_!' she laughed to herself.

Hermione glanced at her watch and saw that her lunch hour was nearly up, so she turned on her heel to head back to her office.


	4. Chapter 4

Standard Anti-Litigation Charm: The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to JK Rowling, Scholastic and WB. I am not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story

**AN: It amazes me how many have put this story on alert or marked it as a favorite. Thank you, sincerely, for your support and interest. Also, a huge 'thank you' to all who have read and reviewed.**

Chapter Four:

Due to scheduling conflicts, Hermione was unable to meet with Apolline for lunch until the next week. With the clan gathering around the corner and deadlines breathing down her neck, the young witch was glad for a break.

"This is a lovely spot you have chosen, Madame Delacour," Hermione said with a smile as she sipped her tea.

"It is one of my favorite places. Charles and I come 'ere often. They do wonderful dishes," the Veela woman said. "This is lovely, no? To be able to sit still for five minutes!" she said with a tinkling laugh. "Madame Umbrecht 'as me finalizing everything; 'ow are things moving along on your end?"

"Everything is settled and more agents from my department should be arriving in a few days to help with the final stages. The guests should be here the day before the gathering itself."

"Bon! And 'ow are you 'olding up?"

"Fine, thank you. Pepper-Up works wonders!" Hermione said with a wink.

"Just be sure to rest, or you risk your 'ealth. Potions can only do so much," Apolline said with motherly concern.

"I will, just as soon as this is all over. I am accustomed to long, busy hours. You should have seen me whilst I was in school," she said with a wry grin.

Their meals were delivered, and as Hermione munched on her salad nicoise, she gazed out over the people strolling by. Once again, she noticed all of the couples, and was hit with loneliness.

"Madame Delacour? What is it like…finding and having a mate? How is it different from what they have?" she asked quietly, pointing at a couple strolling by.

Apolline blinked and sat back in her chair. She mulled the question over for a while before clearing her throat. "I remember asking my maman the same, when I was very young. I did not understand what she was saying until I met my Charles, so it is possible that you will not see what I am telling you," she began, looking at Hermione intently. The young witch nodded that she understood, and Apolline said, "My maman said that when you meet your mate, it is as if…'soul meets soul when eyes meet eyes'. You see them, and recognize them for who and what they are in an instant. Like lightning flashes through you. In that moment, who they are, the totality of them is opened up to you. You see their past, their present…their 'opes, dreams, fears…flaws and any ugliness. And they see the same within you. You accept all this, because you know with everything in you, that they are truly the other 'alf of your soul."

Apolline sat and dabbed the corners of her eyes with a handkerchief, although she was smiling softly. "Maman was right, for that is exactly 'ow it felt when I looked into Charles' eyes for the first time, although I knew 'ee was my mate before that, as 'is scent transfixed me. 'Ow is 'aving a mate different? Well… all I 'ave to do is see my Fleur and 'er William to know that you can 'ave the same love without a mating bond, but they will never 'ave the connection; the feeling of another person living in your soul."

"So, Bill isn't Fleur's mate?" Hermione asked quietly.

"Oh, if Fleur were to 'ave a mate, it would be William, 'ave no doubt about that!" Apolline chuckled, "but my daughters did not in'erit enough of the Veela from me to allow it."

"There is nothing really written about that…what determines how much of the Veela blood and traits someone has?" the young witch asked, her eyes twinkling with curiosity.

"Ah, it is just 'one of those things', no? It is never exact, or determined. I 'ad an older sister, and she 'ad very few Veela traits, and I 'ad a cousin who was fourth Veela, and she many," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "So, speaking of couples, why are you no longer with Ronald? Fleur never did say."

Hermione rolled her eyes and chuckled. "Perhaps because I was never really _with_ Ron to begin with. He kissed me during the final battle and immediately believed that meant we were 'together' in every sense. I loved him, I truly did, but I didn't think that was the best time to start something. He still had to grieve and be with his family. I had to find my parents in Australia, and then I got involved with rebuilding Hogwarts. I knew there was so much to be done and neither one of us had the time or energy to devote to a relationship; however, he saw my going to Australia and wish to take things very slowly as a betrayal and rejection. I tried to tell him how I felt, but he just… well, he was just being 'Ron'. He never did know how to think before he spoke…and that was the end of it. We're back to being friends…somewhat. We'll never have the same friendship or trust again."

Madame Delacour sighed. "The Weasleys are an interesting group of individuals…no others are the same…which is probably a good thing, no?" Hermione giggled into her tea. "Ronald is a good boy, but 'as much maturing to do. No other prospects back 'ome?"

"No. I've been too busy setting up my division since I took over last year. Things are finally running smoothly, and I have a new assistant that does a wonderful job of seeing to everything. I may actually get a vacation for the first time in two years!" Hermione cried, eyes wide as she exaggerated a gasp.

"You must! You are too young to work so 'ard, you need to be traveling, living your life, and enjoying yourself. When you 'ave your vacation, you should find some tropical beach and some young man to play with in the sand," Apolline said with a wink.

Hermione blushed and shook her head. "It sounds marvelous, but knowing me, I'll just sit on the beach and read until I look like a lobster, and then what young man would even look at me except in pity."

Madame Delacour waved an elegant hand in the air, "Perfect...you could 'ave 'im rub burn salve all over you."

Hermione covered her red face and laughed. "You English blush too easily," Apolline said with a smile. "Well, my dear, unfortunately I think we shall 'ave to end 'ere. Thank you for the wonderful company."

The young witch stood and accepted the cheek kisses from the Veela and made her way back to her office.

Work swamped Hermione over the next few days. Her staff arrived and helped her with the last arrangements; all that was left was waiting to greet the Veelas arriving from England. Hermione had arranged for an international portkey, as the international floo system was rough traveling, and she did not want to try and deal with a group of bruised and battered Veela; not with their temperaments. Veela were notorious for being easily ruffled and going into a rage, which triggered their transformation from human to bird-like beings with sharp beaks, talons, and an affinity for wandless magic. The transformations were one of the main reasons the liaison office was created, as Veela were long-lived fierce and magically powerful creatures, with strong clan loyalty and the amassed wealth of centuries. The various Ministries of the magical world went out of their ways to keep the Veela from becoming potential enemies. Even Voldemort had been leery of offending a Veela clan, which is why he never approached those families with suspected Veela ties.

The day of the gathering arrived, and Hermione assembled her staff and headed over to the Wizarding wing of the George V hotel. All suites were inspected, all specific requests seen to, and the hotel staff readied.

A full gathering of the clans occurred once every twenty years. Attendance was not mandatory; however, the matriarchs _expected _a full showing, so all adult clan members of at least quarter blood complied, with the exceptions of those too ill to travel or nearing childbirth.

Hermione stood in the large foyer waiting for the Veela who were to arrive any moment. Her nervousness was betrayed only by the constant glances at the ornate clock on a mantel. She had chosen a set of wizarding robes for the occasion of spring green, covered in forest green embroidery of vines and flowers. She quelled the fierce urge she had to tap her foot and chew on her lip. This was her first major assignment. Her predecessor did not have a gathering during his tenure, so she had no idea of what to expect. She was determined to appear completely professional and competent, and for everything to go off without a hitch.

She felt the magic in the air whilst she was musing, and snapped herself to attention. Within moments, nearly thirty people suddenly appeared in the foyer. The portkey was of the highest quality, so there was little to no disorientation upon arrival. All the Veela appeared unshaken and unfazed by the travel.

"Welcome, everyone, to the George V. I am Hermione Granger, head liaison agent for the Department of Magical Beings and Creatures. My staff and I are here to assist you and to see to any needs or requests that you may have. The hotel's staff is also prepared to accommodate you in every way," Hermione said, calling upon the reserves of calm she had.

"As this is the first gathering for many of you, I shall be coordinating the travel to and from the events and any meetings with the matriarchs. My staff and I have the third floor and are maintaining offices there, so that is where we shall be if we are needed. Now, I shall turn you over to them, and they shall help you find your accommodations. We have an informal luncheon scheduled for noon, so anyone who wishes may attend. That is the only thing scheduled for today, so you are all free to settle in and do as you wish. The wizarding district is accessible through this floo," she said, pointing behind her, "and the staff at the front desk will help you with directions or destinations. Again, welcome everyone, and I hope to see you at lunch," she finished with a large smile.

Several people smiled back and nodded as they passed her to walk over to her staff. After everyone had been seen to their quarters, she would go through her lists and see who had attended. She was fairly sure that Malfoy did not show, as she didn't recognize him in the group.

As she was writing in her files, she heard a throat being cleared. She looked up with a smile on her face. "Yes? May I help you, Mister..."

The tall, devastatingly handsome wizard in front of her snorted. He was tall, well built, with a face Adonis would have envied. He shifted on his feet and ran a hand through his platinum hair. '_Wait a minute..._'

"You know who I am, Granger," the man muttered, blinking his eyes rapidly and looking at the ground.

"Malfoy? Is that you? Well, you look...different," Hermione stammered. "Um, that is, it is good to see you, Mr. Malfoy. Is there something I can help you with?" '_Be professional...be civil..._' she chanted in her head.

"I was hoping you could tell me where my room is. Everyone else left, and I just need to lay down."

Making an inspection of the fidgeting wizard in front of her, Hermione thought that he did indeed look slightly unwell. "Oh, sure Malfoy...um, your room is...suite 413. The lifts are right over there, and it's on the fourth floor. It is already keyed to you, so just say your name then set a password."

"Thank you," Malfoy murmured, then turned on his heel and stalked over to the lifts.

Hermione chewed on her lip as she stared at his back. _'Well, he certainly did change, at least in looks. And he was even slightly courteous... though he couldn't look me in the face...then again, maybe he was polite just because he's sick. He'll probably be back to being a prat when he feels better,_' she heaved a sigh. '_But a damned gorgeous prat...'_

Draco made it to the lifts and his floor. He found the room quickly, and after stating his name and his chosen password, 'Draconis Rex', he stumbled into the room and slammed the door behind him. He staggered over to the large bed and flopped down on his face, waiting for the room to stop spinning.

When he had first arrived at the Ministry to take the portkey, the scent of so many Veela in a confined space nearly drove him to his knees. His sense of smell had adjusted over the past month or so, so he rarely needed the suppressant. However, he had never been around that many with Veela blood. Their scents overwhelmed him, and he frantically dug the potion out of his robes and took a healthy swallow. Now, he was feeling the affects of taking more than a drop or two.

His ears and nose felt completely stuffed, as if he was suffering a severe flu. His head spun from dizzy spells. He could barely focus on anything, so he had kept his eyes on the floor so he wouldn't keel over. Draco kicked off his shoes and rolled over onto his back, not even bothering to undress.

"Dear gods, why did I take so much?" he moaned. "Never again...never, ever again..."


	5. Chapter 5

Standard Anti-Litigation Charm: The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to JK Rowling, Scholastic and WB. I am not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story

**AN: A huge 'thank you' to all who have read and reviewed. Now, let's see what happens…shall we?**

Chapter Five:

Nearly half of her guests appeared for the luncheon as the rest had taken off to the wizarding section of Paris to see the sights and shop. Hermione met with those that stayed and began the arrangements for each guest to meet with the matriarch of his or her clan. The meetings were expected to take most of the next day and following morning, with the reception and ball to take place in the evening of the second day.

Most of the meetings would be simple to schedule, as the Veela in the U.K. had maintained their family ties with the clans on the continent. She wondered what clan Malfoy belonged to, or if he even knew. His file didn't state who Narcissa's great-great grandmother had been. The Veela were not only matriarchal, but purely matrilineal.

Draco Malfoy had fallen into a deep sleep for most of the day. He was startled awake by the presence of a silvery Patronus. The long-tailed bird of paradise was a messenger. A thickly accented husky voice boomed into the room, "Draco Lucius Malfoy. You will attend to the matriarchs tomorrow morn, at ten of the clock." The Patronus vanished into mist and Draco scrubbed his face with his hands. He lurched out of bed and went into the luxuriously appointed bathroom.

He splashed cold water on his face and studied himself in the mirror. '_Ugh…I look nearly as badly as I feel…_' he mused, taking in the dark shadows under his eyes and his rumpled clothes. Draco took out his wand and turned the shower on. He ducked back into the bedroom of the suite, and located his luggage by the dresser and valet. Finding it empty, he searched the drawers and closets and found that everything had been hung exactly to his preference. '_Elves must have been in here…Merlin, was I so out-of-it that I did not notice a presence in my room? Even a house elf? I definitely cannot take so much suppressant again…such a lapse is dangerous._'

Draco found his silken pajama pants and took those into the bathroom. After his shower, he stepped out to look over the room-service menu he spied on the nightstand. Although it was time for dinner to be served in the main dining room, he still did not want to deal with mingling just yet. He tapped his wand to indicate his order, and within moments a house elf popped into the room. It set down the tray, bowed, and popped back out.

The Malfoy heir took a ream of documents out of a warded satchel and worked as he ate, and into the night. '_I cannot wait until father is released from his sentence… I have no idea how he conducted the business by himself for so long…_' he mused, wiping a hand across his tired eyes. He set the paperwork back in the satchel and re-warded it. Slipping under the covers of the large bed, he was asleep within moments.

The next morning, Draco woke up with barely any time to spare. He ordered a simple breakfast, after washing and dressing, went down to the third floor. He walked down the hall, looking for an office that appeared to be occupied. He found one with the door open and knocked on the jamb.

The man seated at the desk looked up. He looked familiar to Draco. "How may I help you…oh! Mister Malfoy! Good morning…what may I do for you?"

"Hardwicke, is it? Er, yes…I received a message last night that the matriarchs wish to see me at ten this morning. I have…" he said, glancing at his watch, "twenty minutes to get to wherever they are…"

"Yes, sir…right this way," Hardwicke said, standing up and moving out into the hall. The agent led Draco to the lifts and down to the main floor. They walked over to the floo. "Did the message state which matriarch you are to meet?"

"I believe it said 'the matriarchs'…"

Hardwicke nodded, and took a handful of floo powder. "Palais de l'Etoile," he said as the flames turned green. He gestured for Draco to go first, then followed him to the French embassy of the Veela clans.

The Malfoy heir strode out into a large, ornate room and dusted himself off. Hardwicke emerged and gestured for him to head down a long hallway, covered with portraits and hand-painted silk. Wherever he was, the Palais appeared to be every bit as opulent and well-appointed as the Manor, which calmed the Malfoy heir as he was comfortable with the settings. The figures in the paintings stared at Draco and whispered as he stalked past. They made their way from frame to frame, nearly crowding the portraits by the end of the hall. Draco quelled the urge to roll his eyes, '_They are as bad as the portraits in Hogwarts…_' he mused.

When they reached a set of carved, double doors, Hardwicke knocked loudly, then waited. At a murmured 'Entre', the agent opened the door and stepped inside. He bowed from his waist, then said, "Most Honored Madame, I present Mister Draco Malfoy." Hardwicke stepped aside and allowed Draco to enter.

Having read what little he could find on the matter of etiquette in the Veela court, Draco genuflected, lowering to one knee and bowing his head, then rising to his full height. He had no wish to ever bend a knee to another person in his life, but his father had impressed upon him the dangers of offending the matriarchs. A cast-out Veela was a target of the clans, as Veela of "no name" was considered a rogue, and therefore dangerous.

A slight woman with elegantly arranged silver hair rose from her gilded chair and made her way to the Malfoy heir. The woman was very thin, reminding Draco of a bird. Her cobalt-blue eyes were sharp and clear, making him think of a bird even more. '_A hawk this one is…_' She wore silvery robes, and no jewelry aside from a large, heavy band of silver adorning a finger on her right hand. It appeared to be inscribed with runes.

The woman stopped in front of Draco, and pierced him with her gaze. "Draco Lucius Malfoy…son of Narcissa, who was of Druella, of Claudina, of Niamh…who was daughter of my sister, Amaranthys of Clan Umbrecht. I am Vizlia Asparuhk, Matriarch of Umbrecht, and I recognize and welcome you to my clan," she said in accented English, regally inclining her head.

Draco held his right hand over his heart and bowed. He hesitated briefly before straightening, and he had reached the end of the information he had found and was unsure of his next step. Vizlia read the situation correctly, and with a smile she took Draco by the elbow and drew him over to settee.

"Normally, I would find offense at the lack of the ritual words, but I cannot hold your ignorance of such matters against you. You have not been taught our ways at all, yes?"

Draco had to quell the strong urge to glare at the woman for stating that he was ignorant of anything, but he realized that she was quite correct in this instance. The few books that he had found were woefully lacking in any real detail. "Forgive me for my lack of knowledge, Madame. In the short few weeks since I have come into my heritage and received word of this gathering, I have found very little material on your ways."

"And being such a distant relation, your mother would have not known and instructed you in wizarding ways, only. It shall not be held against you, as I said…you shall have plenty of time to learn of our etiquette," the Veela said with a nod. "Now, let me look at you… I have not seen a man of such strong Veela blood in an age."

Draco sat still under the scrutiny, fully believing what the woman had said. Vizlia would appear to be in her eighties if she were a Muggle; however, the matriarch was approaching her third century. She had leaned in and was staring at his eyes. "Have you taken any potions today? Your eyes are rather dull..."

"I have yet to acclimate to some of my heightened senses in certain situations. I find that being near this many Veela to be...unsettling," Draco said, hating to admit to any weakness. "A took a drop of a potion that was prescribed to me."

"A suppressant," Vizlia said, sitting back and folding her hands in her lap. "It is helpful, at times, and is typically administered to those young going through Promyanata...the Change. You shall take no more of this potion," she said, raising her hand. Draco was about to question the matriarch and object. "You are adult, and it is hoped that you find your mate soon. You will have much difficulty in finding her if your senses are dulled. You will scent her before you see her."

Draco pursed his lips and nodded reluctantly.

"Good. It shall be worn off completely by tomorrow evening. You shall spend the day with me, young Draco. I will introduce you to the other matriarchs, and we shall dine together. Others of our clan will meet with me today, and you shall see them as well. It is important to know your clan. We are your family. We all serve and protect one another. Your parents are not Veela, but your mother is of my blood, and through you, they shall be family to the clan as well. You are a special case, Draco," Vizlia said with a small smile. "When a Veela man finds his mate, if she is Veela as well, then he becomes of his mate's clan. As the Veela in you is so strong, you will be of two clans if you find a Veela mate."

"Now, we shall meet the others," she said, imperiously holding out her hand. Draco rose and assisted Vizlia as she stood up. The matriarch nodded to another set of doors, and he escorted the Veela elder into a large parlor filled with women of varying ages, and men dressed in various livery. Vizlia whispered to him that each man was an honor guard; typically a son or grandson of the matriarchs, who acted in a secretarial capacity. Sizing up each man, Draco also correctly assumed that they were also true guards in the traditional sense, and as Veela, each could be vicious if necessary.

Vizlia introduced him to each matriarch. There were fifteen clans, and fourteen matriarchs present. The matriarch of Clan Augustine was the eldest Veela existent, and due to her advanced age, was no longer able to travel. Her granddaughter came in her stead. Draco's mind was whirling as he memorized all the new faces and names. He recognized several family names, and tied them to owners of prominent corporations in the wizarding world. _'Father was correct...I could make many new connections here,_' he mused with a small smile, thinking of Lucius' pride in being able to expand the Malfoy empire.

As the day went on, Draco met many Veela from all over Europe. He finally met those from the George V that he traveled with. Many seemed to be pleasant and well-connected people, although he had to quell the urge to roll his eyes and storm away from all the giggling females he encountered. '_Merlin...I could not tolerate the twittering when it was just Pansy...'_

Vizlia expected Draco to stay and sup with her and some of the more venerable clan members, so he stayed at the Palais until it was nearing midnight. The matriarch finally released him so that he could rest for the day.

Draco nearly stumbled out of the floo in exhaustion. It had been a long, tiring day, and he was expected to arrive early tomorrow to assist Vizlia with some of the preparations and to be her escort to the reception. He rolled his eyes as he entered the lift and rode to his floor. The matriarch had been nearly giddy at the thought of showing off her 'prize'.

Draco entered his room, took a quick shower, and was out like a light.

Hermione was lying in her bed going over her pile of notes and files. It had been a harrowing day, and more was to come. She had arranged several meetings between her group and the matriarchs, as well as met up with Apolline for some last-minute changes for the reception. She was relieved when Hardwicke informed her that he escorted Malfoy to the Palais. '_So, he is clan Umbrecht...that should be interesting. The matriarch of that clan is well-respected and rather no-nonsense...if he acts he usual self around her, he'd definitely be taken down a few notches..._' Hermione put her paperwork away and set her wand to wake her early the next morning. _'Four hours should be fine...Merlin, I need a vacation..._'

The next morning, Hermione was in a flurry of activity as she got everything prepared for her staff. As the division head, she had to go to the reception site and help oversee everything. Hardwicke would be in charge at the hotel. She grabbed her files and her ensemble for the ball and flooed to the magical wing of the Versailles that had been reserved for the gathering.

Draco woke up far earlier than he wanted, but he plodded through his ablutions and flooed back to the Palais to wait upon Vizlia. A house elf brought him a full breakfast and a large pot of black tea, which Draco welcomed heartily, and was sorely needed as he spent the entire morning and early afternoon getting a crash-course on Veela court etiquette. By the time Draco began to ready for the reception and ball, he was drained.

Hermione ducked into a bathroom at the Versailles. She whipped out her wand and spelled her hair into place. It was swept up into a loose twist with several tendrils curling about her neck. She uncovered her dark red gown and stepped into it as carefully as she could. With another spell, the buttons up the back were done and any creases were smoothed out. She dug her shoes and jewelry out of a bag and slipped on the crimson satin pumps which made her feel as if she were on stilts. Her minimal silver jewelry sparkled in the light. Grabbing a wrap, she made her way to the large grand ballroom where the evening's events would take place. Guests began to filter in, and she spoke briefly with her staff, then made her way to talk to the French Veela liaison division.

Draco escorted the Umbrecht matriarch into the Château de Versailles. Draco, who was accustomed to opulence and wealth, had to quell the urge to gape and look about him in wonder.

The Muggle part of the Versailles was well-known for the Hall of Mirrors and the numerous chandeliers that hung from vaulted, painted ceilings. In the wizarding portion, the candles floated about the room, along with what seemed like millions of crystals that captured and reflected the candlelight, looking like dancing stars.

The room was filled with tables for the reception. The matriarchs were seated at the head table, so Draco escorted Vizlia there so she could be seated. With a deep bow, he turned to find a place for himself. He spied the British contingent and was on his way there when he saw a flash of a dark hand out of the corner of his eye. He stopped and turned. His eyes widened, and a smirk crept over his face.

"Well, well…so the rumors at school were true, I see," he said with a drawl as he walked over to the handsome, dark-skinned man, swiping a flute of champagne off of a passing tray.

Dark, ocean-blue eyes narrowed before they widened in surprise. "Malfoy? I had no idea you were Veela!" the man cried as he clapped Draco on the shoulder.

"Blaise…good to see you. And…well, this is a new development."

"Oh ho! So, you are the prize male that I have heard so many whispers about," Zabini said with a chuckle. "It is good to see that you recovered from your attack in fine form. How are your parents?"

"Very well. Father should be released from his sentence very soon. Although I enjoy the business very much, I do say that I cannot wait for him to be back in charge!"

"That is due to the fact that you are a lazy blighter…always have been," Blaise said with a grin.

"Not my fault that good grades and good looks came naturally for me… I did not have to work for either, whilst the rest of you poor blokes had to run around like rabid nifflers trying to keep up with me. Enough about all that…what about you? How have you been?"

"Bored, mostly. Taking care of Mama's various estates in Tuscany. The vineyards have been doing very well, but they are mostly overseen by the house elves and staff…very little for me to do, but she expects me to stay there and run things."

"And whatever Persephone Zabini wants; she gets."

"Precisely," Blaise said with a wry smile.

The two school mates sat down together for the reception. A multi-course dinner was served, and when it came to the dessert, Draco was expecting something entirely different than the brie tart with wine-braised pears that were set in front of him.

Blaise noticed the slight furrow between Draco's brows. "Problem?"

"No, just a little surprised. I thought that I smelled something spicy…like a mixture of cinnamon and honey, with something else."

The dark Veela's brow quirked up. "You smelled that just now?"

"Actually, I do not think that is the first time I smelled that in particular. I have detected it a few times now, although it was very faint. Perhaps it is just a phantom of a memory. My parents used to bring me to Paris quite often when I was young, and there was a patisserie that I would practically drag them to. They had the best biscuits. The smell reminds me of the aroma you could follow from blocks away."

"Hmmm…" Blaise said, narrowing his eyes.

As everyone finished, most of the tables began to disappear and the floor was opened up. Trays of champagne floated about as the orchestra readied themselves on a low stage.

"All of this for a little dinner and dancing?" Draco scoffed.

"Veela are typically very social creatures, my friend…you appear to be the exception," Blaise chuckled. "A gathering is a grand event…clans coming together from all over Europe. It is a time to socialize, connect…and if the matriarchs get their wish…an opportunity for all of us infants to find a mate and settle down."

"Merlin, I hope not…"

"At least you shall not have to worry about being with a bint like Greengrass. A mate is supposed to compliment you in every respect."

"How is it then that your mother…?"

"My father, actually. Everyone assumes that Persephone is Veela, due to her beauty…but it was Alfonze Zabini who had the blood. He found my mother, his mate, very late in life and passed from Dragon Pox shortly after I was born."

Draco merely nodded, uncertain of what to say. He quietly sipped his champagne and listened as the band began to play. All of the doors to the gardens outside were opened, and the scented breeze filtered into the room and washed over the dancers. Draco shook his head to clear it. He had not taken any of his suppressant since the previous morning, and his senses were being overrun.

"Are you alright, man?"

"I am not quite used to being around so many," Draco muttered, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Ah…I remember going through the change. I thought I would go mad from it, but it settled down quickly enough. Being around people helps desensitize you and adjust. Give it a minute."

Draco waited, then started to take deeper breaths through his nose, hoping it would help. Suddenly, his head snapped up and his eyes flashed silver.

"Draco?" Blaise asked, concerned.

The platinum-haired Veela began to breathe through his mouth; tasting the air around him. His irises looked like shimmering mercury, and his canines lengthened slightly. Draco's entire body tensed; muscles flexing and preparing to strike.

"Merlin…" Blaise breathed and took a step back from the transfixed man before him. Several others took note of what was happening and stepped back as well. No one was afraid of the display; in fact, quite the opposite. A Veela was tracking his mate. It was a happy occasion and a cause for more celebration. Vizlia spied what was occurring from across the ballroom, and she was practically beaming.

Draco was acting on pure instinct. He tested the air and followed the scent through the room and made his way towards the doors opening onto the garden. The scent was the most delectable and mouthwatering thing he had ever smelled. A mixture of cinnamon, honey, gardenia, musk, and…her. He must find her! She was his…his to be claimed…she was calling to him.

The wind caught and danced in coils of soft, chocolate brown hair shot through with streaks of gold. The scent hit Draco even harder and he nearly fell to his knees. He had found her! His silver eyes flashed as they gazed heatedly over the form of his mate. She was slender and petite, with a perfect curve to her hips and backside. Her skin was creamy and white, and looked like it would feel like silk under his fingertips. She was wearing a red dress that he wanted to tear away from her body so he could see her fully. She was…not facing him! She must turn around…he had to see her face! Her eyes!

Hermione was talking with a gentleman from the Bulgarian Ministry when he broke off and stiffened. He looked over her shoulder then back to her; shock in his eyes. The man immediately backed up, causing Hermione to stutter in surprise. The young witch looked around and saw that everyone was either staring at her or directly behind her. Not understanding, but not feeling as if she were in danger, she turned slowly and saw Draco Malfoy.

Her old nemesis was standing there, breathing deeply. His hands were curled and held out to his sides. Every muscle appeared to be bristling with tension.

"Malfoy? What is the matter? What is going on?" she asked, fear starting to creep in. She looked up and searched his face. "Wha..?" she said, cutting off when she was caught and held in pools of liquid, silver fire.


	6. Chapter 6

1The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to JK Rowling, Scholastic and WB. I am not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story.

**AN: It was a cliffhanger! Mwahahaha...ha...ha...err... yeah... **

**Sorry for riling anyone up with the end of Chap. 5, but it was the perfect spot to leave things...**

**And your comments are like a fine cognac and an order of hot chicken wings...and cheesecake... lots and lots of cheesecake**

Chapter Six:

Hermione stood frozen; her entire body felt consumed with a fire that didn't burn and her whole existence narrowed down to two silver pools that were so deep, they swallowed her very being.

Images, sounds, scents, and feelings flooded into her. She tried to close her eyes against the storm, but she could not move a muscle. In her mind, she saw and felt...

…_Mother and Father...smiling...teaching me how to fly on my new broom! Standing in a room next to Father…no smile on his face now…in a room surrounded by other men. A child's hand reaching up to tug on Father's cloak being knocked away and Father's snarling face….Father's face again, eyes sad as he told the child, "Draco…we are a powerful family, with many enemies…people who would use our weaknesses and that which we hold dear against us…that is why, outside of this home, we appear aloof…above everything…completely in control." Father waved his hand over his face, and when he did so, the love and concern vanished from his eyes. The line of his mouth became cold and cruel. It was as if he wore a mask. The hand waved back, and once more, Draco looked upon the Father he knew. Lucius Malfoy smiled and held his son close._

_On the Hogwarts Express…feeling the twinge of hurt and rejection when he talked to Harry...I am a Slytherin! Just like Father! _

_Being terrified to be in the Forbidden Forest at night…lashing out at others in his fear._

_The exhilaration of being on the Slytherin Quidditch team. Writing to his father about being chosen as seeker, and being surprised the next day with new brooms. His parents were so proud! Being told stories of the Chamber of Secrets…wondering if there was a monster at the school…no one could see his fear…keep the Mask on!_

_Mother's cousin is out of Azkaban! A murderer on the loose! Father furious at the school for allowing such a dangerous creature like a hippogriff near his son, near any child!_

_The World Cup! Watching the best game with his parents…seeing the Death Eaters, people fleeing in terror…the Twiwizard Tournament… Anger. Fear. Sadness. Diggory was dead and Voldemort was back._

_Father and Mother were terrified... have to fit in, go along, protect the family's image... being on the inquisitional squad...Pressure. So much pressure from all around... follow Potter! Terror...Father was caught...Mother is crying every day..._

_Pain. Pain. So much pain. And fear. And No! I cannot! Do not make me! But Father! And Mother! I am going to die soon..._

_I wish I would die soon. The things they make me do. The things they make me watch...Father is helpless without a wand...Mother has no tears left... No. Not Potter or Granger...No! Stop! Pain. Fear. Blood. Death... _

_Silence. Safe...at home... Mother and Father are safe... peace._

_Change. Strength and power... and fire...yearning...lust...love. Her._

Draco felt himself slip into the sparkling amber pools that had become the focus of his existence. His mind, already overwhelmed by the need to find his mate, offered no resistance to the visions or sensations pouring into him.

_Mom and Dad sitting with me and reading to me. Pictures...and words... and joy! The world is so amazing and wonderful and I can learn all about it! Oh no! I didn't mean to do that! I'm sorry! Don't be afraid of me, I didn't mean it! Alone. Hurt...No one wants to be my friend. Am I a freak?_

_Mum and Dad are worried... doctors and more doctors... and some weird lady who smelled funny with cards and a glass ball... Mum, what does 'possessed' mean?_

_Magic! I can do magic! I'm a witch! A whole new world... look at that! I can do that! I can learn all about it! I can do everything that they can do...I'm just like them! I'm not a freak! A troll in the school! Scared! Something is after my new friend! I can help!_

_Not filth! Not dirty! Just as good as you! I'll show you! Another monster in the school...must figure out what it is...need to help my friends...Afraid... don't look around the corner! Use a mirror! What happened?_

_Harry in danger again. A murderer is looking for him! And dementors! Something is wrong with Professor Lupin...I'll find out! A huge black dog took Ron to the Shrieking Shack..It's Sirius Black! Lupin and Snape show up..Merlin, I hexed a professor! Pettigrew is alive!... a werewolf! The Dementors have Sirius! How to save them? My time turner! _

_Death Eaters! Running...fire... where's Harry? The tournament...Harry is chosen! No! It's a trap, don't you see! Why is he smiling at me? A dance... my first dance... All ruined! What happened to Cedric? Where's Harry? Mad Eye was Crouch the entire time! Voldemort is back! _

_Need to learn more. Need to prepare. Need to help my friends! Need to fight! Umbridge...evil, vile, horrid woman! She hurt Harry! Caught! How to save us? Running... Death Eaters! Terrified... there are too many! Fight! Pain! Too much blood...Sirius is dead...this is just the beginning..._

_Harry thinks Malfoy is up to something, could he be right? Ugh...why is Ron with Lavender? Is that how a girl is supposed to act? I can't be like her...Harry is cheating with that book...he should know not to trust some books by now! Dumbledore is gone! I trusted Snape...we all did! We have a mission...this has to end...dear Merlin, we have to find the horcruxes._

_Fear. Starvation. Hiding. Have to keep going for Harry, for us all. Ron left us... We have to find a way to destroy the horcruxes...and what about the Hallows? Flying...I hate flying...Pain upon pain upon pain...will it ever end? I am going to die... We lost Dobby... This is it... poor Professor Snape...and Fred, and Lupin, and Tonks, Colin...NO! Not Harry! He's alive! We won!_

_My parents are so relieved...angry, but relieved...have so much to do and so little time... "There just isn't any room for me, for us, is there? Fine...go back to the books you love so much...too bad they can't marry you, because no one else ever will, you frigid know-it-all!" Dive into work, keep busy so it doesn't hurt as much. Who cares if you have no real life, you're the youngest division head the Ministry has had and you're a Muggleborn to boot. _

_Merlin, everything has to go well...so much is riding on this! Great...have to deal with Malfoy...what is wrong with him? Why is he looking at me like that?_

Two people staggered under the weight of another's lifetime of feelings and thoughts. Draco and Hermione snapped out of their communion at the same time and they shuddered, chests heaving as if they had run a marathon.

Hermione blinked, and her knees give way. Before she fell, she felt two solid and warm arms wrap around her instead of the hard floor as she expected. Snapping her head up, her eyes were once more entranced by a silver gaze.

"Draco..." she breathed. The Veela who held her tightened his arms, bringing her body closer to his, which was quivering and exuding an incredible warmth. He was still tense; every muscle rigid. A low rumble emanated from his chest as Draco dipped his head to nuzzle his nose and lips against her neck.

"Hermione...my Hermione," he purred. Meanwhile, applause had swept through the gathering as they celebrated and welcomed the newly bonded pair. Those around the couple turned and stepped away from the area to give them some space and time to themselves.

Across the hall, Vizlia Asparuhk, Matriarch of Umbrecht, sighed in mild disappointment. Apolline Delacour stepped up next to her and offered a glass of champagne. "I do so wish he found another Veela..."

"Madame?" Apolline asked, surprised and slightly offended on behalf of the girl she saw as family.

"We are spread too thin, these days. If she were of another clan, it would have been a welcomed bridge to span the gap. His blood is so strong, it would have been a wonderful connection...now we may lose his bloodline..."

"'Ermione Granger is one of the most powerful and intelligent witches, and she is still so young! I 'ave nothing but 'ope for their children. They should be powerful, indeed."

"You know of this Granger girl?"

"She is as a daughter to my Fleur's 'usband's family. She was also integral in the defeat of that dark wizard, Voldemort."

"Ja, I remember now. She is brave and strong as well, then. I agree with you now...it is a good match. From what I have read of her, I also have the feeling she will keep young Draco on his toes," the matriarch said with a wicked smile, "I had the feeling that he was spoiled and arrogant. She shall put him in his place when I cannot."

"She certainly shall," Apolline said with a grin and a wink.

Draco had swept Hermione outside to the fresher air and quiet in the gardens. He had yet to release her and his face was buried in her neck as he inhaled her scent deeply into his lungs. The Veela felt as if he pulled away he would suffocate. Hermione was the very air he needed to live.

The witch in his arms clung to his broad shoulders. Her mind was still whirling with everything she had seen and felt. '_Did that only take a few seconds? It felt like an entire lifetime... So much pain and fear...to live like that for years! My poor Draco..._' With a shiver, she slid her hands along his back until she held him as fiercely as he held her.

"Mine... mine...only mine," he murmured against her neck.

"Yes, and you are mine... I can feel you, Draco...inside me..." she whispered. "It's true... 'soul meets soul when eyes meet eyes'..."

He finally pulled back and looked into her dazzling amber orbs. "Hermione..." Draco rasped out.

"I know...you are sorry for how you treated me all those years..."

"You are as well," he said, pulling her hair from its twist so he could run his fingers through her silken, heavy curls.

"You tried to save me...you were afraid for me and it hurt you that I was being hurt...you were so scared..."

"You cried for my parents and me after our trials...you spoke up for us..."

"You love them so much...other than your parents and your godfather, you've had no one else care for you in your life..."

"You love your parents...you went through so much to save them...you love Harry, he is your brother...you love the Weasleys, even Ron, although he hurt you so badly..."

"You're never going to be alone again..."

"Neither are you..." he said, tilting his head down while he angled her face to meet his. Draco felt an ache behind his teeth and his mouth was filled with a sweet taste as some venom was released. Hermione's lips opened when his touched them. He swept his tongue out to taste her. Draco groaned. Her taste was more overwhelming than her scent. He crushed her soft frame to his own and deepened the kiss.

Hermione tasted the venom on his lips and she nearly blacked out from the wave of heat and sensation that rushed over her. She felt a tug deep within her soul; her magical core surged in rapture. The young witch felt another blissful wave as Draco's core responded.

Draco's eyes rolled back in ecstacy. If this initial marking was any indication, then he couldn't imagine the bliss of a full mating, when he would be balls and fangs deep in his witch. His entire frame was wracked with shudders of anticipation.

Hermione pulled away from his lips reluctantly. "Draco...calm down," she gasped out.

Draco's only answer was to bring her even more flush against him and try to recapture her lips. Hermione turned her head, "Draco...we can't...not now! You must calm down..." she groaned.

The Veela growled in disappointment and rested his forehead against hers. "Why?" he whined, wanting nothing more than to finish bonding with his mate. He felt delicate fingers stroke through his fine hair and massage his scalp. Draco purred and leaned into the touch.

"You are nearly full Veela, Draco...and have been recognized by your clan. Your matriarch will expect you to follow the rites. We can't fully bond until our wedding night..."

"And you are nervous. Why are you nervous?"

"I've never... that is, I'm...didn't have the chance to ever..."

Draco's purr deepened and a large smile crept over his face. "You are untouched...you will be mine, completely..." he said, before his voice dropped to a whisper, "I shall never hurt you, my mate..."

"I know," Hermione said, sighing and relaxing into his embrace. The two held each other, and listened to each other's hearts beat. They could also hear cheers coming from the ballroom a few other times, and one by one, entwined couples made their way out to the garden.

"The matriarchs must be pleased... it looks like we're not the only ones to find our mates tonight."

Draco looked up to glance at the other couples. He smiled and chuckled when he noticed a certain dark-skinned wizard wrapped up with a petite, blonde witch. Hermione followed his gaze and gasped.

"Gabrielle Delacour? And is that Zabini?" she exclaimed in surprise.

"Yes, I spied him before dinner. It was rumored that he had Veela blood whilst we were at Hogwarts...obviously the rumors were true."

"His father was Veela?"

"Yes...how did you know it was not his mother?"

"If a Veela loses their mate, they would never take another, yet Mrs. Zabini has remarried how many times?"

"I believe she is on number seven."

"Poor thing...she's looking for what she lost, but it will never be the same as it was with her Veela," Hermione said, tightening her hold on Draco. Even though they had begun their bonding less than an hour ago, and had spent their entire childhoods in opposition, she couldn't bear the thought of losing him. Something clenched deep inside of her, causing pain.

"Shhhh...shhhh, my mate," Draco said, rubbing her back and cooing softly into her ear. "I shall not leave you..."

Hermione curled into Draco and let his presence wash over her. She had never felt so safe or so loved in her entire life.

Her peace was interrupted as the matriarchs came outside to toast to and welcome the new couples. Draco stiffened slightly as Vizlia stepped up to them.

"Miss Granger...Madame Delacour has spoken quite highly of you. I welcome you, as I would a daughter," she said, kissing the confused witch on both cheeks.

"I don't understand..." Hermione said.

"It has been discussed amongst us," the matriarch said, gesturing to the others, "that you are a powerful witch and shall have powerful children with a male of such strong Veela blood. Therefore, you are recognized as kin to clan Vinchet, as you are considered such to Madame Delacour, and your children shall be seen as clan Umbrecht." Vizlia was beaming as she made the announcement. Her only misgiving was losing clan ties to Draco's children as his mate was not of Veela descent. With the matriarchs' decision, for which there was precedent when clans wished to maintain a bloodline, her fears were laid to rest and her clan would be strengthened with the next generation of Malfoys.

"Now, we shall have the rites very soon. Do have your mother contact me," she said, leveling a stern look at Draco.

Draco bowed and watched the matriarch walk away. He had felt Hermione's surprise at Vizlia's words, although he did not fully understand the reason. He shrugged it off, knowing that his mate had a better understanding of Veela protocol than he did, as part of her job. _'Her job...that is something that we shall have to discuss. I know she enjoys working, but father and mother shall not like it... Merlin! Mother!_" he mused, then groaned.

"Draco? What is wrong?"

"My mother...she will be planning a wedding...why can we not just elope?"

Hermione smiled, "I doubt it will be that bad."

"I doubt you shall be saying that in a few days...you will probably try to find that tent of yours and hide in the Forest of Dean again!" Draco said with a chuckle.

"Only if you join me...in a few days, we very well may be fully bound," Hermione said, a shy smile on her lips. "When the matriarch said that the rites will be held very soon, she meant it. Veela weddings are held less than a week after you find your mate."

"Good...because I could not wait longer," Draco said, nibbling on Hermione's neck.

"Merlin," Hermione breathed, "you're not the only one..."


	7. Chapter 7

Standard Anti-Litigation Charm: The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to JK Rowling, Scholastic and WB. I am not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story

**AN: It amazes me how many have put this story on alert or marked it as a favorite. And my reviews have been incredible! **

**Sorry to say that we have no 'action' as of yet...I'll get there, though! And I'm thinking about splitting that part into separate chapters so those readers who don't care for that sort of thing can just skip the naughty bits. **

**This chapter is a bit fluffy, but hopefully not too much so. I did say that this is would be the fluffiest of my stories, though, so there is a little... Also, if you think they're being a bit too OOC and lovey-dovey, remember that they're in the beginning stage of the bond...things will settle down a bit afterwards, and they'll go back to being the wonderful snobbish, bookwormish, cantankerous characters we know, just with the addition that they really know and love each other.**

Chapter Seven:

The night began to turn into early morning, as Veela and guests started to leave the ball. Hermione and Draco were still clinging to each other on the ballroom, gently swaying to the music.

Hermione yawned; for her it had been an extremely long day and she had not slept much the entire week. Draco could feel her stubborn resolve to stay awake, so he draped an arm over her shoulder and began to steer her to the apparition site outside.

"Where are we going?" she asked drowsily.

"Back to the hotel so you can sleep...you are nodding off on your feet. I hope that I am not boring you already," he said with a smirk.

"I'm sorry...I've just been so busy lately and..."

"And you are going to bed." He took out his wand and _Apparated _them to the foyer of their hotel. "Now, which floor are you on?"

Draco escorted Hermione to her suite on the third floor. After they entered, he kicked the door closed and pushed her against the hard wood, then pressed himself against her to capture her lips.

'_Is this what they mean by 'between a rock and a hard place'..? Merlin…_' she mused.

She was about to break off the kiss when Draco stopped his assault on her lips and pulled back to look into her eyes.

"I should be going…" he rasped.

Hermione shook her head and wrapped her arms around his waist. "No…you should stay…"

"Hermione…," he began, pinching the bridge of his nose, "if I stay, I cannot promise that I will be capable of restraint…you said that it was important to wait for the rites…"

"Which will make it more difficult for the both of us if we're apart for any length of time until then…"

Draco's brow rose in perfect imitation of their former potions professor. Sighing, Hermione took his hand and led him to a loveseat and pulled him down next to her. "Remember what we felt when we looked into each other's eyes? And when you kissed me for the first time?" When Draco nodded she continued, "That was just the beginning of the bond. First our souls began to merge…then when you gave me a bit of venom in the kiss, our magical cores began to join together. From what I've researched, and from what Madame Delacour told me at the ball, the soul binding is so that we'd always be connected…after the final marking, the intensity should fade a bit…"

"Do not take this the wrong way, but I shall be glad of that. I do love knowing and feeling you inside of me…but my own head is busy enough without your thoughts and feelings added to the mix. Merlin, how did you not explode whilst we were in Hogwarts?" he joked to lighten the slight hurt he felt from his mate.

"I get it," she sighed, relaxing a bit. "As I was saying…our souls are connected, and your venom allowed our cores to align, as well as started cellular and chemical changes in my body, which will allow me to have a longer life and be able to carry a Veela to term. Until the final marking, though, our souls and cores are pretty much…interweaved," she said, lacing her fingers together and holding them up to Draco. "If we're apart for too long at this point, it puts stress on the weave and we'll feel the pull to be together and finish the bonding much more strongly."

"What happens to us after the final marking, then?"

"The bond will be cemented…Madame Delacour said the massive dose of venom I'll get will finish the changes to me and the bond will anchor itself in both of us," she said, pulling her fingers apart but leaving her index fingers locked together. "We will always have a bit of the other's soul and core inside us, but it will be permanent…no longer swirling around like they are right now."

Draco closed his eyes and laid his head on the back of the sofa. "I do not know how you expect me to not take you tonight with you so close…if you did not tell me how important it is to not offend the matriarchs, I would not have waited another five minutes to make you mine…"

"I know…I could feel you. In more ways than one," she giggled, looking down at his lap. "I can give you a mild sleeping potion…I've been taking it for years. Developed it myself, and it's not addictive and won't leave you groggy in the mornings…"

"For years?" he asked with concern, feeling something unidentifiable from Hermione.

"Part of the reason why I work so much and keep myself busy is so I'll just crash at nights from being so tired…if I don't do that, or take the potion, I usually get nightmares…"

"Of?" Draco asked softly, gathering her up in his arms and holding her close.

"The battle…seeing my friends lying there afterward…Bellatrix," Hermione said, shuddering slightly. When she began to feel more distress through her bond, she said, "Oh, Draco…I do not blame you for that, at all. I know now that neither you nor your parents could have done anything, and you helped us as much as you could…it's alright…shhhh…" she whispered, putting her arms around him and rocking slightly.

"Here I am trying to comfort you and you switch it up on me," he said with a wry smile. "Well, how about you give me some of that potion and we get some sleep. Something tells me we shall have an interesting morning…" Draco felt her curiosity and confusion. "I have to tell my mother that we are to be married in a few days, and you still have work, do you not?"

Hermione smiled as she shook her head 'no'. "My staff was at the ball; they know that we are mated. They also know not to interfere with or interrupt a bonding pair, so Hardwicke has probably already let the Ministry know what has happened and he'll temporarily step in for me."

"Good," Draco grinned, sending a wave of satisfaction and happiness to Hermione, who mirrored it. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her into the sumptuous bedroom. The young witch felt awe and a bit of wonder as he seemed to lift and carry her as if she weighed nothing. She felt the hard muscles of his arms and chest. '_He really did change…I don't remember him being so tall or built in school.._' Hermione felt safe in his arms, yet slightly nervous. Draco was so much larger and stronger than her now, and although Hermione was no meek little female, she definitely felt the power of his masculinity.

"Alright?" he asked as he set her down on her feet.

"Yeah, I'll just go change in the bathroom…unless you'd like it first?" she asked as she dug through a dresser for something to sleep in. Draco shook his head, so she slipped into the loo to change and get ready for bed. After thoroughly brushing her teeth and putting her hair into a braid, she walked into the dim bedroom.

Draco had already turned down the lights and was laying in bed, waiting for her. She swallowed and crawled under the covers. "Here's the potion…I already took a little," she said, holding out a vial. Draco took a sip and set the potion on the nightstand. He turned on his side to face Hermione and wrapped his arms around her. He pulled her close to him and grit his teeth as she wiggled against him and threw a leg over his to get comfortable.

"You are going to be the death of me, witch…"

"That's nice, honey…go to sleep," she said with a sleepy chuckle. Draco rolled his eyes, then closed them. Orpheus claimed them both a moment later.

The next morning, Draco turned and felt his morning erection grind into a fleshy backside. A wave of his mate's scent hit him a second later, causing him to groan.

"Morning, Draco," Hermione rasped.

"Morning, love," he said, wrapping his arms around her tighter. "I could stay like this the entire day…"

"Me too, but we have much to do…" Another groan was her reply. Hermione felt his hand smooth along her jaw to her chin, then felt her head being turned. She tilted her face up to meet his for a gentle kiss, which soon turned deeper. "Draco…" she gasped out.

He broke off the kiss and buried his face in a pillow. "I know…I know…" he said, lying still for a few minutes and breathing deeply. After he settled down, he threw the covers off and got up to head to the loo. "I need a shower," he grumbled.

As he walked around the bed, Hermione saw that he was only wearing boxers. Draco's body was sculpted like a swimmer's. His chest was firm and toned, his abs clearly showing. His back and shoulders were a masterpiece, as were his long legs. Draco picked up on her interest and desire, and with another groan, hastened his step. That was when Hermione noticed what his boxers were barely containing.

Her mind went blank in shocked surprise. Draco stopped at the bathroom doorway, and turned slightly to look over his shoulder. Seeing that her gaze was still fixed slightly below his waistline, he chuckled and closed the door behind him so that he could take a cold shower.

Whilst Draco was busy, Hermione threw on some clothes, jotted down a note in case he was done before she got back, and left her suite to go to another further down the hall. The door was open, so she stepped in and found Hardwicke sitting at the desk.

"Everything going alright?" she asked her subordinate.

Looking up with surprise, Reginald smiled at his boss and nodded his head. He, as well as the other agents and division staff, liked working for Hermione. She always treated them well; not like underlings, but as valued team members. She did her share of work instead of delegating most of it, and was fair and compassionate.

"Going great…just a bit busy. There were eight bondings last night, not including yours. The matriarchs are thrilled."

"Nine altogether? I don't think I've heard of there being that many at a gathering before."

"I have not either. Well, I contacted the Department this morning and let them know of the situation. Another couple is from England, so they needed to know that there are two new bonded pairs coming back. And, since you are on temporary leave as of right now, they are giving you the option of taking as much vacation time as you would like. You have almost five months racked up, you know!" he said incredulously.

"Oh! Well…I haven't used any… in a while…"

"No!" he said, sarcastically.

"Hey! Don't talk to the boss that way," she said with a wink. Hermione tilted her head when she felt slight worry come through the bond. "I need to go back…if you need my help with anything, send me a note?" Hardwicke nodded then shooed her away. She ran down the hall back to her suite. As soon as she opened the door, she was pulled against a warm and hard chest.

"What kept you?" Draco murmured into her neck as he nuzzled her hair.

"I had to check in with Reginald," she said, humming and tilting her head so that he had easier access. "Have you spoken with your parents yet?"

The spell Draco was under was instantly broken. He sighed and leaned his cheek on top of Hermione's head. "No…I think I would rather wrestle with a blast-ended skrewt than tell my mother she has to plan a wedding in mere days. And my poor father…he cannot leave the manor to escape the insanity that is sure to come…"

Hermione giggled as she tried to picture the cool and dignified Malfoy matron running about like Molly Weasley was known to do. Even during the war, when Hermione was being tortured by Bellatrix or during the final battle, Narcissa seemed to exude a quiet determination and dignity, regardless of the hell around her. "For some reason, I can't picture your mother running amok…"

"That is because she does not. She sits and directs everything with all the aplomb of a seasoned general. It is everyone else running amok, trying to keep up with her instructions. My mother planning a party turns into a chaotic jumble of house elves, caterers, decorators, seamstresses…you name it. Father tries to hide in his study, but she snaps her fingers and has him running about too, until he sneaks out and goes to his club. Unfortunately for him, he cannot do that for a few more months until his release."

"Well then… you should get started. There is a floo connection over there for calls."

Draco glared and trudged over to the fireplace. "What are you going to do?"

"I'll take a shower and order us breakfast."

Draco steeled himself against the image of a naked, wet Hermione that flashed through his mind, and grabbed some floo powder. When he heard the bedroom door close, he threw it in the fire and barked out, "Malfoy Manor, study!"

"Father? Mother?" he called out of the flames.

"Draco? Is anything amiss?" he heard Lucius' voice. Moments later he saw his father's concerned face.

"Not amiss, but something has definitely occurred. Is mother there?"

"She is in her parlor. Cribbet!" he said, summoning an elf, "Please inform my Lady that I require her presence." The elf bowed and popped out of the room. Turning back to the floo, Lucius asked, "So what has happened?"

"I think we should wait for mother…" Draco mumbled. His father frowned at him, then went to the sideboard to pour some firewhiskey. He had a feeling it would be needed.

Narcissa floated into the room in a flutter of rose-pink robes. "Draco! How are you?" she greeted with a bright smile.

Lucius had pulled a chair in front of the fire so his ladywife could be seated. She sat down demurely and looked at her men expectantly.

"Well, the truth is… you see… I…" Draco stuttered.

"You found your mate!" Narcissa blurted out, covering her mouth with a hand.

"How did you know?" Draco asked. Lucius looked back and forth between his wife and son.

"I can tell these things, I am your mother," Narcissa said, waving her hand before placing it in her lap once more. Draco rolled his eyes.

"You did? Well, who is she, son?" Lucius asked.

"She is…well…she is very, very intelligent. Brilliant, even. Brave, courageous…a heroine of the war. She is beautiful, compassionate…a hard worker. She is very well regarded and respected…she is…"

"Evidently without a name! Enough, Draco," his father barked.

"Hermione Granger," Draco said, leveling a challenging look at his parents. Narcissa sat primly and looked contemplative. Lucius leaned against his desk and stroked his chin; his brows narrowed in thought.

"We have never had a Mu..Muggleborn in the family…" he grumbled.

"Lucius?" Narcissa said quietly. When he had fixed his troubled gaze on his wife, she continued, "Remember what the healer said. There can and will be no one else better suited to him…"

Draco's eyes were filled with love and gratitude as he looked at his mother. Even though Lucius said that he no longer cared about blood purity, long-held beliefs and traditions were hard to ignore or shake off completely.

"I understand," his father said, sighing heavily, "I was only thinking on what we shall do with most of the portraits that will no doubt be vociferous in their protestations. I shall have the elves remove them to the attics."

Narcissa beamed again and rose from her chair to kiss her husband on the cheek. She knew how difficult this would be on Lucius, and she had never been more proud of him in his acceptance of the situation and willingness to put aside his own misgivings and lingering prejudices to see to the happiness and well-being of Draco.

"Touching…" Draco said drolly; attempting to alleviate the emotion in the room, knowing that more was to come. Lucius smirked at his son.

"So. When are we to meet her?" Narcissa asked.

"About that…" Draco sighed, "very soon. Within the next day or so…"

"Wonderful! Should I set up a room for her? What shall I…"

"We are to be wed."

"I gathered as much," his mother said frowning. "What is the matter?"

"According to my clan matriarch and tradition, we are tobemarriedinthenextfewdays," he blurted.

"Pardon? I did not catch that, Draco," Lucius said, frowning as well now.

"Veela have to be married and go through the bonding rites within days of finding their mate. I do not fully understand why, but the impression I got from Hermione is that any more of a delay could be deleterious."

"Oh dear," his mother said, sitting down again. "I shall have to start planning immediately…"

Lucius leveled a glare at his son, shaking his head and grabbing the tumbler of firewhiskey he had poured.

"I do apologize, mother…father, but there is nothing for it without risking the offense of the matriarchs and whatever danger a delay will cause…"

"I understand, my dragon…it is just a bit overwhelming at the moment," Narcissa said quietly.

"Mother," he said, looking at the woman fondly, "you do understand that I neither expect nor want something grand, and I expect Hermione is the same. She has never been one for display, even whilst we were children. I shall ask her, but I have the strongest feeling that she would only want her friends and family present, and obviously, we will have few people on our side to invite…"

"Merlin, we shall be overrun with Weasleys," Lucius muttered, pouring himself another drink. Before he had a chance to take a sip, Narcissa looked over at him and pointedly looked at an empty glass. Chuckling, he poured a couple fingers into another tumbler and handed it to his wife.

After a fortifying sip, Narcissa coughed delicately and turned back to her son. "Do get a list of those Miss Granger intends to invite, and I shall see to the catering and decorations. At least you are in Paris…procuring decent wedding attire should be no problem."

Draco rolled his eyes and nodded. "I was also asked to inform you that my matriarch, Vizlia Asparuhk, Matriarch of Clan Umbrecht, would like to speak to you as soon as possible. I can only imagine it will involve whatever Veela rites or specifications there will be to the ceremony."

"Asparuhk?" Lucius asked, his eyes slightly narrowed. "You are tied to Madame Asparuhk? Good show, son…her husband's family owns one of the largest corporations in Germany!"

"Actually, that would be mother's 'good show', as her great-great grandmother was Vizlia's sister…I had nothing to do with it."

"Do you know of my family's clan affiliation?"

"I was not informed, but I could look into it. The clans are mainly matrilineal. In a few cases, they will count a male's children as clan, in order to maintain a bloodline. Such will be the case with any children Hermione and I have."

"Well, give me the matriarch's contact information and I shall floo her directly. Is there anything you need?" Narcissa asked, a grin on her face as she thought of grandchildren.

"Not that I can think of at the moment, I shall have to ask Hermione."

"Well….do accept our congratulations, Draco," Lucius said.

"I shall. Well, I have to cut this call…I believe that Hermione is waiting to order breakfast."

"Alright, and keep us informed young man… I love you, my dragon. I am so happy for you!" Narcissa said with a bright smile, although tears danced in her eyes. Lucius smiled softly at his son and laid a hand on his wife's shoulder.

"I love you too," Draco said, then cut off the call. He heard his mate stirring in the bedroom and went to the door. He received a soft "enter" when he knocked, and opened the door.

"Everything alright?"

"Yes, I just didn't want to butt-in during your call to see what you wanted for breakfast so I waited for you, but I'm starving! What do you want?" she asked, holding out a menu. Draco reached out to take the menu but grabbed her wrist instead, tugging her into his arms.

"I think I shall have this for starters…" he murmured, leaning down to kiss her fiercely. He only broke off, long moments later when he heard his mate's stomach growl.

Chuckling, he picked up the menu and tapped it with his wand. "What shall we do after breakfast? I can think of a few things…" he said, nibbling on her ear.

"Well, we should probably meet with, or at least talk to, Vizlia… and I have to make some calls of my own. Merlin, what are my parents going to say?"

"Congratulations on snagging such a rich, handsome, powerful, handsome, and strong stud?"

"You said 'handsome' twice," Hermione said, giggling.

"I am so good-looking, a single mention would not have done me justice."

"Sweet Circe, I hope I don't get that ego of yours through the bond…" the young witch said, rolling her eyes.

"And I pray to Merlin that I do not get your hair…"


	8. Chapter 8

Standard Anti-Litigation Charm: The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to JK Rowling, Scholastic and WB. I am not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story.

**AN: I am beyond flattered that you seem to like this story. Thank you for the wonderful reviews and comments!**

**Anyone have peanut butter to go along with this fluff? Enjoy!**

Chapter Eight:

Draco and Hermione were finishing their breakfasts when the silvery bird of paradise Patronus floated into the room. "You shall attend to me, directly," intoned Vizlia's voice. As the Patronus turned into mist, Draco looked over at his mate. "Somewhat commanding, is she not?"

"She's very old, experienced, and is the head of one of the most-influential Veela clans in Europe...I think she has had to be," Hermione said, setting down her napkin. "Well, if we're off to the Palais, I should probably get cleaned up a bit." As she rose and made her way to the bedroom, she was caught and pulled back into strong, warm arms.

"Need any assistance?" Draco purred into her ear.

"Merlin, Draco..." she sighed, tilting her neck to accommodate the kisses he was placing upon it, "I know what you are feeling...I feel the same way, but you have to control it."

"Do not want to..." he murmured, tightening his grip as Hermione's knees gave out.

"Please..." she hissed out. "We can't finish this yet, and you're making it so hard..."

"_That_ is certainly your fault, entirely," he chuckled, grinding into her from behind and letting her feel exactly what reaction she was generating in his body.

"Please...for me, Draco. I want our bonding to be special...I want to be yours in all ways for our first time..."

With a growl he tore himself away from her. Draco stood with his back to his witch; palms grinding into his eyes, his entire form quivering with repressed feeling. "Go...go ready yourself...now...please," he gasped out.

Hermione wanted nothing more than to rush back into his arms to comfort him, yet she was aware that it would be the worst possible thing for his control at the moment. Without a sound, she went into her room to change.

Long moments passed before he was able to calm his breathing. The tall Veela man strode over to the door and left the suite. Instead of the lift, he located the stairs and took them two at a time and ran down the hall to his rooms. After barking the password, he went in and immediately headed for his travel case. Flinging the contents onto the bed, he searched for a small vial. After he found it, he took a couple of drops of the suppressant, and prayed to Merlin that it would help him control the violent urges running through him.

When he felt his senses dull slightly, he decided that he should probably freshen up as well. After a quick shower and a change of clothes, he ran back down to Hermione's suite. He lifted his hand to knock on the door, and received an armful of witch before he could blink.

"Miss me?" he chuckled after spitting out mouthfuls of curls.

"I could feel where you went, but I don't like you being that far away..." she murmured into his chest.

Draco smiled and draped an arm over her slim shoulders. They took a lift to the main floor and flooed over to the Palais.

After they were seen into a parlor, they sat on loveseat to wait for Vizlia. Draco was unnerved by the presence of so many males, as all of the matriarchs' honor guards were nearby, so he had Hermione practically draped on his lap, his arms forming a cage around her slight frame. The witch rolled her eyes at his possessiveness, but as she felt safe and comforted, she bit her tongue instead of unleashing it upon him.

Shortly, they were graced with Madame Asparuhk's presence. Draco grudgingly rose to his feet and set Hermione down, although he never relinquished his hold of her. "Madame," he said, bowing deeply. Hermione sketched a curtsey.

"Please, sit. Now, let me take a look at you two. Draco! Did you take that potion again?" the matriarch demanded as soon as she saw the tell-tale glaze over his eyes.

He shifted in his seat and tried to let go of his mate. Every instinct he had told him to keep contact with her, so instead of having Hermione sit on his lap, he took her small hands and covered them with his own. "I felt that it was necessary, Vizlia. It was becoming too…difficult to control myself around her, and we must wait for the ceremony."

The matriarch sighed and rolled her eyes. "Very well. As you have found your mate it is no great matter. Have you informed your parents?"

"Yes, I spoke with them this morning and let my mother know that you wished to speak with her. They have begun to ready the Manor and make the preparations for…"

"Oh no, no…this is why I wanted to speak with her immediately. The ceremony simply must be here."

Draco almost gaped in shock. "Madame…my father…it must be held at my family home, he…"

"I have already begun to make arrangements. I will be inviting dignitaries from several Ministries, and then there are the matriarchs and their families, and also the…"

"No," said a very determined Gryffindor.

"Pardon?" Vizlia asked, shocked.

"I said, _no_. This shall be _our_ ceremony Madame, no one else's. I shall only be inviting close friends and family; I most certainly shall not have hundreds of dignitaries, politicians, and hangers on, who I wouldn't even know, at what will be one of the most special times in my life. Draco's father cannot leave Malfoy Manor unless there is an emergency, and there is_ no way _that I would have a ceremony without him being able to attend…not to mention my own parents… I haven't even informed them yet, and I will not marry without them present…I seriously doubt that they could drop everything and come to France this quickly. So, I shall say it again…No! We will be married in England, and the only people who will be present shall be those we invite."

Draco had wrapped his arms around Hermione in reaction to her anger and distress. His eyes were flashing dangerously and his claws were unsheathed. When he began growling at the matriarch, the Veela elder finally snapped out of her shock and was about to unleash her own temper. She was interrupted by a calmed and apologetic young witch.

"Forgive me, Madame, for being abrupt…but as I said, this is our wedding…to our mate…therefore it should be about the two of us and our wishes."

"Do you know to whom you are speaking? I _am_ Clan Umbrecht. One of the strongest clans in Europe, and your mate is my thrall. His ceremony should be witnessed, and you…"

"Are not of Umbrecht but adopted by Vinchet, and I can guarantee that Apolline will back me on this. Whilst Draco may be regarded as your clan, remember, any children of ours may only be regarded as Umbrecht if _I _allow it as their mother."

Vizlia's eyes flashed and her knuckles whitened as she gripped the arms of the chair. "You dare?"

"Yes, I do," Hermione said, staring the enraged Veela down. After long moments, Vizlia threw her head back and laughed, startling Draco.

"You do have backbone, witch! How lovely! You will do well as a Veela's mate," the matriarch said with a bright smile. "Are you certain you do not have any Veela blood yourself?"

"Quite, Madame," Hermione said, smiling back as she settled in her seat. Draco looked back and forth between the women in confusion. Hermione patted his knee, and under the guise of kissing his cheek, whispered, "I'll tell you later…"

"You said that you have not yet spoken with your parents…they are Muggle, correct?"

"Yes, Madame. Drs. Wallace and Jane Granger, of London."

"Ah, so they are educated people…good, good. How do you think they shall react to this situation?"

Hermione sighed and chewed her lip. "Honestly, I do not believe they will be pleased, but if I tell them the entire situation, they will accept it and support me."

"Not pleased? Why ever not?" Vizlia demanded. Draco was interested in the answer as well.

"I am only twenty-one. In this day and age that is very young to get married, in the Muggle world. My parents were well-finished with medical school and nearing thirty before they married and had me, and they probably assume I would wait as well. But, as I said, if I explain everything to them, they should be more understanding of the situation."

Vizlia nodded, and the group was interrupted by a liveried man knocking at the door and stepping in. "Madame, there is a floo call for you; a Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy."

"Thank you, Andreas, I shall be there directly," she said, waving him away. "I shall take this call and arrange everything with your mother," she said Draco. "You should probably away to England as soon as possible, as the ceremony shall be held in two days…judging by your behavior, it would be unwise to wait any longer," Vizlia said with a smile. Hermione blushed and Draco wrapped his arm around his mate to bring her closer. "Take care children, and I will see you soon." Rising gracefully, Vizlia swept out of the room. Taking Hermione's hand, Draco pulled her out of the room and to the floo as quickly as he could.

"What's the rush?" she asked, trying to keep up with Draco's huge strides.

"I need more potion…your scent is driving me mad," he growled.

Hermione grimaced and let him drag her all the way to his suite. After opening the door, he nearly ran to grab the vial of suppressant. "Merlin…two days…I do not think I could withstand another two hours," he sighed, hanging his head down. Hermione approached him slowly and ran her fingers through his hair. Again, he began to nearly purr and lean into the touch. _'He's like a cat_,' she mused, letting a giggle out.

He lifted his head enough to peer at her through his lashes. "What is so humorous, my lady?"

"You just reminded me of Crookshanks, is all…he loved it when I did this too," she said with a grin.

"Crookshanks," Draco said dryly, "you mean that orange ball of fur that you had in school? How in Merlin's name is that a compliment? What was that creature, anyway?"

"It wasn't a compliment, it was an observation. He was my familiar…a half-kneazle."

"What was the other half? Dust-mop, perhaps?"

"He was a very good, intelligent, loving and faithful friend," Hermione said, eyes narrowing.

"Ah, so there was a compliment in there somewhere," he grinned, stepping closer so he could take her back into his arms. "No wonder I remind you of him…I am exceedingly intelligent…I will love you and be faithful to you forever…" he drawled, then began nibbling along her neck, "and I am very…very…good."

"And very full of yourself," she giggled when he nibbled on her ear, "not to mention incorrigible."

"And you are bossy, prim, and a know-it-all," he chuckled as Hermione glared up at him, "but, by Merlin and Morgana, I love you with everything in me…"

She closed her eyes and sighed, resting her head against his chest. "I know…I can feel it…and I feel the same way. It seems…odd, that I remember full well how you were in school, how you used to feel about me…I even felt it when we connected…but in knowing you…in feeling you like this, it just doesn't matter. All that matters is you now…and us…"

"I hated you because I was taught to say that I hated you. It was never personal, at first. It became so after the first few years due to Potter more than anything…that and you beating my grades in every class. Blood meant nothing to me. I am sorrier than I can say for how I treated you. Knowing you as I do now…I cannot think of anyone more wonderful or beautiful. You are my soul, my mate."

After a moment, Draco asked, "What was that with Vizlia?"

"Oh, well, Veela are matriarchal, as you know...if a woman is meek, then she is seen as not able to care for and lead her family. It was a test, for the most part. Since I stood up to her and refused to back down, I proved myself worthy of having a family."

Draco furrowed his brow. "That is the opposite of how I was raised. As a wizard, it is my duty to care for and support my wife and any children..."

"That is how it is for Veela, as well. The men provide and protect, whilst the women lead. Veela believe, that as the family and blood comes through the women, then it is the woman's province to rule over it."

"Interesting view...and one that my father should enjoy mightily. Lucius Malfoy is the 'Lord of the Manor', after all. I shall warn you now...I was raised the same way. If you expect me to dress in gowns and curtsey to you, you are in for disappointment," he said with a wink.

"Too bad...I have this one dress that would go wonderfully with your coloring...although, there is no way you'd be able to wear the shoes that went with it."

"Cheeky witch," he laughed, nuzzling her hair and neck.

They basked in the warmth of their connection for a moment, then Hermione stepped away. Smiling ruefully, she said, "Well, if we only have two days, we should probably get a move on. I have to talk to my parents still…and the boys…Merlin," she sighed heavily.

"I shall be by your side every moment, if you wish it."

"Oh, I do…just don't be surprised if you get hit a few times." When Draco pulled back and frowned, she smiled and told him, "They're all a bit protective of me, even though I can handle myself. With my father, Harry, and all the Weasleys, I should probably get some bruise paste for you. Can't have any of them marking your lovely skin before the ceremony. Black eyes and black ties don't go well together."

Draco snorted and rolled his eyes. "Speaking of which, we should probably go shopping before we head home. I shall need to find appropriate formal robes, and it will be easier for you to find a gown to your liking whilst in Paris, especially on such short notice. "

"Great…shopping."

"You do not like to shop? Are you certain that you are a woman? Let me check," he said, sliding his hands under her blouse.

"Draco!" she shrieked, laughing.

Hours later the two walked hand-in-hand down the main avenue of the wizarding district, bags in hand and shrunken packages stowed in pockets. Hermione was laughing at the amount of things that Draco had bought; it was nearly five times what she would buy for Christmas presents for everyone.

"I had to bring something back for mother, or I would never hear the end of it. Also, I had to get gifts for your parents, and your friends."

"Why would you get presents for my friends?" she asked, confused.

"For our ceremony. It is tradition to get the bride's family gifts, and as you consider Harry and the Weasleys family, it is only fitting."

"Oh! That's a nice tradition. Muggles have something similar, they have small favors they give to guests, but they're usually something small, like sweets or candles," she said as she pulled him down the street to a café.

"Le Crinière du Griffon? Are you hungry?"

"Famished…all that shopping drained me, but at least I got a dress that I love."

"That you refused to show me," Draco said, pouting.

"It is tradition for the groom to not see the dress until the ceremony," Hermione said, imitating his haughty voice. She found a table outside and sat down before Draco could pull out her chair.

"I see that I shall have to train you," he grumbled, then smiled to let Hermione know he was not angry and mostly joking when he felt a flash of hurt from his mate.

"I see I shall have to hex you if you say something like that again…" she grumbled.

Draco took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Hermione…I was raised to display etiquette at all times in public, and even in private for certain things. If we are to be together, especially in a public place, you should act appropriately."

"How was I acting inappropriately?" she demanded, her eyes flashing nearly as much as a Veela's.

"A lady should always be escorted and seated by a gentleman, especially if she is with said gentleman. You should not just seat yourself…"

"But it's just us, Draco, you don't have to…"

"Yes, I do. It is more important even when it is the two of us. My father still rises whenever my mother comes into a room, and he always helps her to a seat. It is showing respect and care for the witch you love."

Hermione sighed. "How can stay angry when you say something like that…"

"I do not know why you were so angry to begin with," he huffed.

"I was raised in the Muggle world," Hermione said, shrugging. "There is etiquette when it comes to behaving in certain situations, but most people don't follow such old-fashioned courtliness these days, especially in such informal settings," she said gesturing between the two of them. "It is just us, we are at a small café, not the Versailles, and I was angry because you said you have to 'train' me to 'act appropriately'. It was condescending and rude."

"I was joking about that, which you know full well. And perhaps I used too strong of words. My family and I have always been under scrutiny…I was raised to behave a certain way and present a certain persona whilst in public. Strict etiquette is part of it, and it was drilled into me at a very young age that the way I was perceived affected the entire family. Now, the way you are perceived shall affect the family as well. In certain circles, your seating yourself would set off a storm of slander, criticism, and social backlash. I am sorry that this is the way your life may be from this point, but you must be more aware and circumspect whilst you are in public."

Draco grimaced and covered her hand with his when he felt the torrent of emotions coming from his mate. She went from angry and hurt to chagrined, sad, and frightened. "It shall be fine, my love…I do not believe that it will be so bad for you…you are the Heroine of Hogwarts, after all. Also, you shall have my mother to help guide and instruct you with anything you may need…and I will not leave your side."

"I know…I just hate that…being scrutinized in public, gossiped about…its part of the reason I stayed so busy right after the war whilst Harry and Ron went to all those ceremonies and speeches. I couldn't take it. Always made me feel like I was under a microscope."

"I know exactly what you mean. I have had to deal with it since I was born, practically," he said, a smile creeping over his features when he felt Hermione calm. "So, am I forgiven?"

"I guess, you prat," she said, smiling back at her mate.

After lunch, they went back to the hotel and packed up their suites. Hermione stopped by and spoke with Hardwicke, informing him that she would be returning to England. Her subordinate shook his head. "Fine..leave me here and put me in charge of this mess whilst you go off and get married…which I won't be able to even go to as I'm doing your job. For shame!" She giggled and gave her friend and co-worker a hug good-bye.

"I shall see you in a few months. Take care, and if you need anything, don't forget to owl!" Hardwicke waved her off, and she went to the floos to find her mate.

Draco was pacing in the foyer, and turned to scoop her up as soon as he saw the witch. "Merlin, what is that smell?" he asked, growling.

"I was just speaking with Reginald Hardwicke, my replacement, about some last-minute things," she said brusquely. There was no way that she would tell her possessive Veela mate that she hugged a man that was neither him nor family.

Draco growled and wrapped her in his arms to get his scent on her. She smiled as he rubbed against her cheek. "You really do remind me of Crookshanks, now." His response was to growl again.

They had decided to return to her flat first, so that she could pack whatever she needed and make whatever calls needed. After going through the international floo system, both needed a mild healing potion and several _Scourgifys_. Hermione went into her kitchen to make some tea whilst Draco walked around her rooms.

As she came into the living room with a tray, she heard Draco's laughter. "What is it?"

"How old were you here?" he asked, holding a picture of Hermione as a little girl with her parents.

She blushed and tucked her hair behind her ears. "I was four…a very precocious four. That was taken on my birthday."

Draco continued to laugh at the photograph. Hermione had blue cake frosting smeared all over her face and in her hair, causing it to clump and stick out in all directions. "Definitely can tell it is of you…your hair has not changed a bit." He laughed even harder when he felt a pillow hit him in the back of the head. When he finally settled down, he looked at the picture again. "You look like your mother, except you have your father's hair and smile. Good Merlin, how big is he?" he asked, seeing how tiny Hermione and her mother appeared next to the man.

Hermione looked Draco over and said, "I think he has a couple inches on you and at least fifty pounds." As she bent to fix her tea, she did not notice Draco standing there wide-eyed and paling. "Mum and I are about the same size, though."

Hermione stood there for a moment, chewing her lip. After a moment, she turned and strode determinately over to her fireplace. Grabbing some powder, she threw it in the fire and called out "Granger house!" As the fire turned green, so did Draco.

"You are calling them now?"

"Yes, I figured it would be best to tell them as quickly as possible. Are you alright?" she asked, finally feeling his distress.

"I shall be fine…if your father does not break me in half, that is. Is he part giant? He is nearly as big as Hagrid!"

Hermione just laughed and turned back to the floo when she heard her mother's voice. "Hermione, dear? Is everything alright? You're back from France early…"

"Everything is just fine, mum. Could you and dad come through? Or would you like me to come over there?"

"Your father has everything torn up again…he's painting the living room this time," Jane said, rolling her eyes. "We will be over in a few minutes."

"I'll put another kettle on, then…see you in a bit," Hermione said, cutting off the call. She walked over to draco and sat next to him, curling into his side. She smiled as she felt his warm arms envelope her. "I claim this spot, right here."

"I do believe it is yours. Not only shall no one else occupy it, but you fit perfectly," he smiled gently, brushing kisses into her hair. The smell and feel of his mate calmed him down, but Draco was still anxious. From her memories, he knew that Hermione had told her parents of his behavior whilst they were at school. They would also not fully grasp what it would mean to have a bond between them.

The floo flared to life and a petite woman of Hermione's build and height stumbled into the living room. She looked remarkably like her daughter aside from having straight, light brown hair, slightly thinner lips, and crinkles around her eyes. The woman was followed by a man who looked like he could give Hagrid a fair fight. If it were not for the wide smile on the man's face or the kindness apparent in his eyes, Draco would have readied his wand.

"Hello, Hermione," the man said in a deep baritone. Hermione was immediately lifted off the floor and engulfed in a hug. Draco smiled as he watched her feet dangle. She was set down and hugged her mother.

"Hi guys, I'd like you to meet Draco," she said, holding her hand out to him.

He was standing behind her slightly, so he moved to the side and bowed to the Grangers. "Madame Granger…Sir…it is a pleasure to meet you." When he straightened to his full height, he noticed the intent look in Mrs. Granger's eyes.

Hermione's father offered his hand. "Good to meet you too, son. Call me Wallace, and my wife is Jane. How do you know Hermione?"

"I believe they went to school together. It is Draco _Malfoy_, correct?"

"Indeed, Mrs. Granger, on both counts."

"Well, this is a story I would like to hear," Jane said, sitting down and folding her hands in her lap.

"What story?" Wallace asked, sitting in another chair and pouring tea for himself and his wife.

"The story of how Hermione's childhood bully is now sitting in her living room holding her hand."

"What? _That_ Draco?" Wallace blurted.

Draco took a deep breath before he spoke. "Yes, Sir. Hermione and I have discussed our past and I have apologized fully for the misguided way I behaved and acted toward her whilst in school. She has not forgotten but has graciously forgiven me nonetheless," he said, taking Hermione's hand and placing a gentle kiss on the back.

Jane nodded after scrutinizing the blond wizard. "So, how did you two meet again?"

Hermione looked between her parents. "Well, we just met in Paris." Jane arched her brow incredulously.

"Mrs. Granger…Sir…there is something you should be aware of…" Draco began.

Hermione was glad that she had put up strong silencing charms around her flat, as several minutes later, her father's booming "WHAT?" rattled the windows.


End file.
